I clothed myself in gowns of blue and gray,

The day the world began.

Across the hills as they all grew,

I danced as swift as falcons flew:

Gazelle in ecstasy, I ran . . .

–

. . . High on the misty cliffs, I tripped

And plunged towards rocks that wailed of death.

My garments caught, frayed white, and ripped.

Across the stones I stumbled, slipped,

Then rushed on, wild, with ragged breath . . .

–

. . . I slowed under some blue-blushed skies.

I murmured soft, with upturned eyes,

And shimmering where the sunlight dies,

Wove melodies . . .

–

. . . Swelled with desire, I hurried on,

Stretching my hands to touch the dawn,

Until my garments caught the sun

And I and Ocean melted, one.