If you cast truly, king fisher of men,
Show care with connection, rare, meaningful song;
Withered by loss, I cannot comprehend
Why seed should be made to stay only so long.
Feeling for reason, flowing stone divides,
Severing seasons of constant refrain.
Though I deem sep'rate the day from the night,
Singular cycles are all that remain.
O, to make matter, to spirit up beach,
Drawn by some beauty, so vibrantly graved!
Roaring, I'd grasp what's been kept beyond reach,
Breathing new life into what should be saved;
     But presence of peace neither soothes nor forestalls
     When what order brings must be destined to fall.