Always believe the wind.
It knows. It knows.

Wash your face and hands
In water as cold as you can stand.
Scrub away your shame.
You learned its lesson long ago.

Climb the highest mountain,
But do not forsake the street.
Remember what lies beneath:

The toil, the clay, the bones.

Love grows where it is sown,
But life is curious:

It springs up everywhere,
Feels its way in the dark,
Takes root in every crevice.

And death? How can it be,
When every sigh begs us to return?

How can it survive, when life speaks
From each river, tree, and stone?

We see it come, we see it go.
But death is only life in disguise.
This I know. And this is why I sing.

January 28, 2006

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