I bow my head turning slowly silver
Space to be time has like butter been churned
I wonder what my soul has done these years
And what I have with my time and troubles earned?
...
A death nell rings for the land of what was
Time for slowing to begin again
The old will fall off and be gone soon
Soon time will rebirth but I know not just when
...
I feel the silken touch of fond remembrance
The feel of the bounty and bother of what has been
My old winter is in an inner most tiny blooming
Time to meditate for fires within
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