These were the days
Through the misted mid regions of Spain
During the autumn fair,
In perhaps my most hindered year.

I still remained vulnerable to life and what it had to instruct
Though had I been aware of the vast surroundings
Which shrouded my capable nature.

Al hope had been restored
My heart volcanic
My conscience, there
Through the Autumn air.

Our talks, they were distant,
And cater cousins we,
Who held solemn belief
In things, that most would turn their gaze.

"In she," said I.

"I find myself so terribly lost.

I tell you, if the sun shall rise no longer,
The rivers dry and embedded,
I shall find myself wanting to be lost once more.

And all men who gaze upon her majestic, and harbored nature
Shall gaze upon the very face of the Heavens."