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I brace myself

For the purging of a lifetime

For the cleansing of a cave

For the aid that nature lends me.

She has mercy, yes,

But archives she has too

Within leaves and buds and branches

And under the heaviest rocks.

My debt lives there in the open

Unable to reduce itself,

For the angelica root is fatal

For tiny beings that take roots;

It is a root war,

The stronger life invades bodies

The weaker one bleeds farewell

Having been in haste discharged.

I feel no love at the moment,

I feel not the will to share;

The only sprout that I welcome

Grows solely for freedom’s sake.