wrote a poem: Night, Sleep, Death, and The Stars
My heart is stone
The moon is silent and absent
Like my mother
O Mother —
Thou art dead!
Thy fair countenance —
A fleeting shade!
What remains but my orphan-tears?
Who hears but a pitiless — mirage — of deers?
But, great God, my Father in High Heaven!
Thou callest thy Morning Star!
Shining upon me!
Thou art not dead,
Nor art thou deaf!
Behold, I awake into glorious dawn!
Surely the flowers of noon, soon appear!
Bountiful Spring-time!
Graceful herons! Amidst cat-tails!
Day follows night
And I, humbled,
Await the age-old cycle of
Heat and cold, Sun and snow
Night after Day after Night
As swift as the River flows
To what end — only God knows —
It's not our place to know
Return to your rest,
O my soul!