How selfish are my ambitions
and trivial my thoughts.

The trees never ask,
they only give.
Holding the air, like a lover --
                                          sweet.

Your smell inhabits my heart
and your spirit walks beside me.
You never contained this capacity to love so sweetly.

Nature has an intimacy within itself
that lovers could only ever hope to hold.

I understand why a poet would live
                  apart from man,
but apart from nature?
This I could never fathom,
wouldn't
hope to understand.