Is this the beginning with first breath out here,
Whispering the divine dark world verse.
Is this the end of beautiful journey from down there,
Hustled and jostled while locked up in tiny purse.
To begin, the traveler did not set the course,
For the landing somewhere edge of the world.
What a raft to float remote without force,
No age counts making a decision bold.
Dead leaf leaves and falls away from the tree.
Should the traveler remember his roots?
Bees return to hive even miles away they see.
Should he spend the final in the old woods?
Meet new suns and moons is how the life’s art,
With warm soil smells in the heart.