Early, she rises to wake the sun
Flowers wait for her touch
Grass bends against the wind to greet her
She is the Queen of the Garden
And the distance, the man of books
In his hermitage of thought
Longs to be in her Garden
To turn green with care
She draws rain from the heavens
Raindrops obey her gentle beckoning
And water from the high mountain basins
Fills cisterns to soak her soil
Her workers rise with her too
Earnest, they hear her charge
Eagerly bringing life to the morning
Guided by her steadfast urgings
The man of books longs to read
The words of her Garden
To capture her miraculous touch upon his pages
But she calls him beyond his hermitage
She calls him to the basin
On a graceful whim, and he is shaken
He follows her beauty and cannot turn back
The man of words grows roots
His thoughts become leaves
Pulling nourishment from the soil
His words turn green, grown together
Like grass, he too bends against the wind
To greet her