I lay on the bank of a swift brook

Close, close to the moist soft earth.

My body crushed sweetness out of lowers

And my hot clenched hands were stained

With their fragrant petals

I lost myself in the downward run,

And the low steady music of the water

Mumbling o'er the rounded stones

Filled all the world. The water's flow

Bore down a salt tear in it's freshness.

And in the silver and in the green

THe sky reflected and a cloud went by.