I don’t know how you hang to time
how you look for trees in the prairie
how you see your shadow on the river
reflecting your blacks and golden bright.
I don’t know how you look at the clouds
how you see pearls in its airs
how you float with ease in its grays
pushed by the early winds.
I don’t know how you plane over wheat stems
how you let your feathers be caressed
how you close your waken eyes
to enjoy your dream in silent pace.
I don’t know how you sing to the late comers
how they listen to your clear voices
how they open wide their eyes
to find you, the tenor in his play.
