It is natural when young
To burn like the Mediterranean sun:
To measure one's shadow against
That of a mountain's,
To stand before a vast forest
And imagine a million trees
Marching to your command.

But today, I would prefer
The unassuming way of the reeds
Swaying in the sea,
For I have acquired the art
Of cleaving to a higher will,
And like the moon, have become
Luminous in the light and glory of the sun.