no stirring now within the cloud
where a lamb once set his flag
though anchored on an orphan's arm
a lighthouse on an empty sea

the timid fawn has leaped away
her hunter's hands left empty
no snare set by futility
can now hope to trap her hoof

thinking: as a wave seen breaking on the shore
or a train that passes in a dream
the bleating of a newborn calf
so should all things appear

may all beings abide in rest, all beings at peace
gone and soon forgotten, they fall from out your hand
like dandelions in the field
i will not be born again