when I walk the earth, when I harrow the water
when I keep to the house, my garments are silent -
though when they fling me winging above
the ridges of houses where men dwell,
toss me to heaven in the woollen breath
of clouds over towns and kingdoms
my pinions sing with each stroke soaring - sing
when I do not walk the dull earth
nor harrow the silver water
nor keep to my house
but sail endlessly
restlessly
close