The way the dandelion clock settles at the crook of the root,

or the alder-leaf drops to the surface of the stream

and rests lightly as she is borne away,

 

The way the bamboo stalks sway into each other’s arms,

or the morning glory vine twines around the ivy,

 

The way the hummingbird laps at the lilac

or the grass seed punctures the soil,

 

The way the moss lies upon the branch

or the lily upon the water,

 

Is how I drift, fall into you, hold you

Is how you fill me, and bring me peace.