I am a tree receiving light
Or perhaps just an image of delight
I follow through on life's extensions
resulting in awareness of different dimensions
Where are the remnants of my rational power?
Perhaps I lost them as I ascended the tower
There I became imprisoned by tension
while I pondered, was logic my pension?
Now, I may feel alive and free
Or sometimes as rooted as a tree
three hundred years old in all its splendor,
While I look at my heart and search for its mender
Do I truly love desire or care?
Is it only that I feel my cupboard base is bare?
When I dwell on spiritual elements compounded;
I remember that God has created men well-rounded.
Then reason declares desires and fears well-founded:
And I know everything is previously included and far ahead accounted.
Life's round of births and deaths, and beginnings do deceive some,
But the question remains, despite all, ... Is there an end to receive one?
