Deep in a garden I lay,
As when before— a world I had made,
I was born on wooded shores,
When sounds of the forest stood calling
And all that day of my youth—
I combed with branches pointing anew,
Grasses, green took to flame
And timber— tall, called out my name,
As a winged seed I spun afar,
Which led me to dreams new under stars,
Wildflowers I left unpicked—
Have painted true my world ever since,
All my time spent— sun raining,
O what kingdoms a child can make.