I LEAVE NO trace of wings in the air,
but I am glad I have had my flight.

ON THAT NIGHT when the storm broke open my door.
I did not know that you entered my room through the ruins,
For the lamp was blown out, and it became dark;
I stretched my arms to the sky in search of help.
I lay on the dust waiting in the tumultuous dark and I knew not that storm was your own banner.
When the morning came I saw you standing upon the emptiness that was spread over my house.

THE SOIL IN return for her service
keeps the tree tied to her,
the sky asks nothing and leaves it free.