Vagabond Inspirations

Let your hands wander over my face,

Erase from my brow all its weariness,

Remove from beneath my eyes

The fear of living.

Let my head be a sculpture formed in your palms.

Then you too close your eyes,

Let your hands think in quiet;

In your thoughts I wish to live:

One day, in your loneliest hour,

From your fingertips

And from your palms

I will come and speak to you.

Let us part;

You return to the sun, become light;

I will disperse into the earth.

One late afternoon

Be the last light

On the final branch

That alone makes the forest hum with one reed—

Come, find me.