I will here plant a seed

and feel the compost of forgotten years,

and breathe the warm air of this, the present. 

And wait in the world to see

where it will sprout. 

I will ask nothing of it

but only that it grow to be 

Itself. 

I leave the harvest, or scent of flower, or weed

unknown to myself, alone to God; Here,

Under the sun and from my own self freed,

I plant a seed.