When there’s not much to say,
And too much has been heard.
Regrets pile up along with each step
The road seems all desolate and dust.
Look for the tiny green sprouting up,
Around you among the dried up crust
Wonder, how in the deserts they mature?
When all tread it together you see,
It’s about time the earth goes soft and subtle
That’s where you are right now, child,
Helping in smoothing land for tomorrow.