wrote a poem: Night, Sleep, Death, and The Stars
My heart is stone The moon is silent and absent Like my mother
O Mother — Thou art dead! Thy fair countenance — A fleeting shade!
What remains but my orphan-tears? Who hears but a pitiless — mirage — of deers?
But, great God, my Father in High Heaven! Thou callest thy Morning Star! Shining upon me! Thou art not dead, Nor art thou deaf!
Behold, I awake into glorious dawn! Surely the flowers of noon, soon appear! Bountiful Spring-time! Graceful herons! Amidst cat-tails!
Day follows night And I, humbled, Await the age-old cycle of Heat and cold, Sun and snow Night after Day after Night As swift as the River flows
To what end — only God knows — It's not our place to know Return to your rest, O my soul!