Standing on the tiptoe
of my universe
I found I had
Nothing but love to offer
While the nature of
Anonymous cruel indifference
Can seem unnameably cold
I admired the ability of it
To make us feel free
Insolent as my fate had been
Greener than the word May
The mast of these afternoons
Only beggared for moderation
And that enraptured simplicity
From which I came
That was enough, and so were
The rest of the years that I was given
at the asylum of the eucalypti
I would rest, and it would be
Wondrous and christening
Like a white sunset.
Wuji Seshat 