The water is a world, itself;
The sky a reckoning —
I feel the earth now calling me,
Its soil beckoning —
The fire that was once my heart
Has lost its fuel for burning;
The water shows the changing sky
In transitory churning,
And I am like a memory
That lives but now in writing:
I feel the nighttime coming on,
When I shall lose
My lighting
To share is human:
