and so the rain for days
for sleep I may come and lay
upon my bed ridden with neglect
for no sun is seen
cruel nimbus clouds that steal these hours
and the darkness then with swift devour
for memory serves the rites of spring
I must remember the way
the gate
the path
on that will be another end
where all the rain will dry
and the grasses will bend, upwards, again
and my heart will sing
and fill with the songs of birds
as equally gladness fills the air and will intoxicate my mind with wings