Where light begins

Grow your roots, my tree, and
when I die, when I cannot bring
any water, bloom, shine in spring,
give the world your delightful scent.

Grow fast, my bird, and ascend.
When I die your majestic wing
will carry you, skies will sing,
a long horizon will bend.

I will go where light begins,
where free from exhausting fever
I will find what pain means.

I must see what it will deliver.
Shiny fish with brisk yellow fins,
let me swim in your crystal river.


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