As a child I learned the scent of flowers;
such a joy that grew to be.
As the bee that floats between them,
I drank their sweetness and they became me.
I must not burn, but pass in a lake,
better, a river and down to the sea.
Onto a shore and into the earth
the worms I will greet and they will be me.
My anger they will soften, my sadness will humble them,
my laughter hearten them, my sweetness they will free.
The flowers will welcome this sweetness
and a child will drink them joyfully.