V

A handful of dust could hide your signal when I did not know its
meaning.

Now that I am wiser I read it in all that hid it before.

It is painted in petals of flowers; waves flash it from their
foam; hills hold it high on their summits.

I had my face turned from you, therefore I read the letters awry
and knew not their meaning.



VI

Where roads are made I lose my way.

In the wide water, in the blue sky there is no line of a track.

The pathway is hidden by the birds' wings, by the star-fires, by
the flowers of the wayfaring seasons.

And I ask my heart if its blood carries the wisdom of the unseen
way.