Sit, unplanted, with your back to a tree, or to your . If sorrow drowns the hour, let yourself , each hurt recalled, the heart a of old wounds. If startled by joy, let yourself Light dims, the air cools your . Unclear , what it is you’re - each monotone hoot of the owl, a - less clear what can’t be : the soul, a spirit, the king of This density of leaves and of tenuous moss, yours. here and now, life’s good fish. Child, the night, boldly. O lost see, catch fire and