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From Poems That I Wrote Years Ago: No. 3 (Sentience)

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Perhaps you will not notice me;
Perhaps I shall pass under the shadow
where the sun hides behind you—
I shall remain unnoticed,
there, in your heart, inside
your palm. . .

I am like a leaf without a tree,
the wind is high which blows around
you will never know
how I feel about the world;
I was sent here, amongst
you, the humans.

That which made me
gave me long arms and legs, a stomach
which demands food everyday,
water, and the shade
of love;
I shall perish otherwise, I'm like
vapor, the dead;

When the stars struggle above you, at night,
when I run like a child
in open fields, a happiness
surges in me,
something, a great power, moves
inside, the heart
of the dead, rises again.
The sun shines in your house, the morning
arrives like it did before.

Years have passed hiding like this, then
occasionally, I have searched
for the secret—
You will never believe what I've
discovered; it's difficult to accept
that one shall die
and turn into ashes,

this star, this sun,
this life
so mysterious, will evaporate
into the heart of the grand spirit.