Float my soul as wind does blow;
A field of drifting snow.
Long grass will tickle my fleeting heart,
Field posts as my deep breath.
My wisdom is an open sea
Torrenting above this frozen ground,
Truth for which I’m steady holds
Dirt which refuses me
The steady pull of gravity.
And in this I shall forever find
Patience of the naked deciduous,
A lark, yet steadfast cold.