The Mortal Sound

I lay me down in the tall grass,

And little creatures flit around.

Above me world and clouds pass

Without sound.

And yet I hear the subtle song

Of clouds and worlds in my ears;

They chant as they quietly pass along,

Without tears.

I put my face against the ground,

And hear the Inflexible One, who shears

All worlds' and clouds' fates, without sound,

Without tears.

Within my heart I see the years

Stealing life from me unfound:

I hide my face-and then come tears:

The Mortal Sound.