He’s ash now. He played with ash back then. He’s dirt. He was dirt back then. He snatched their slums and their palaces But now he can’t live in either. He pumped out dirt into the river back then. He’s going back to the river now.
Beams of gold Whispered in the meadows Where rainbows grew The veins of tender leaves Sparkled and shined As the barks of trees Transparent and tall Branching in translucent fruits Magically in the twigs Covering every leaf The beams of gold