I am no longer the boy from under the trees.
I stand in the light of a setting sun. My life,
a shadow behind me, with all its memories.
Ahead, mortality with its burden of grief.
I am no longer the boy from under the trees.
Strange how it all collapses and comes to be
a single tear, lit up in consciousness,
whether of sorrow or of ecstasy,
a sober mix of regret and thankfulness.
I am no longer the boy from under the trees.