Life is soon to blossom

With an intention all its own

Despite, and without regard

For, any actions which I may have

Shown to my liking;

I must have its same sap within me;

I must be a part of its root or its vine;

I must choose to move

With the way the wind blows; and

I must lose

All the inclinations of mine

That do not give birth

To the tomorrow

That the Eternal, the Creator,

The Spirit has within

The intimate confines of its mind.

Wind me up!

Set me on my way!

Do not give me reason

To see the light of another day

If I do not fit

Within the docile lines,

That It would draw

About Itself.


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