Come, Butterfly It's Late- We've Miles To

O Cricket From Your Cherry Cry No One Would Ever Guess How Quickly You Must Die.

Do Not Seek To Follow In The Footsteps Of The Wise. Seek What They Sought.

Clapping My Hands With The Echoes The Summer Moon Begins To Dawn.

Plunge Deep Enough In Order To See Something That Is Hidden And Glimmering.

Along My Journey / Through This Transitory World, / New Year's Housecleaning.