… In swirling winds she dances, by and by, through most of her days,

A beauty, unmatched, in suitors the same,
the sparrow, the hawk, the vole, now, even the rain

She’s mine!, All mine!, She’s mine!, they each proclaim, be off now, begone, all her, all she, all golden, e’en thicket and pain

But hold on here now; she says, to every creature and beast; Can you not see, in belonging I am to none of thee, but to all and one, as the rainbow can be

Just as heaven, and earth, and wheat, and seed, to none have any true claim, I, and you, and all without, in whole, in part, in age, in word, forever as all creation, just as in name

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*Quaenam enim aetas ibi sit verbo.*

*For what age be there in a word.*

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Golden Field of Wheat, Bedford, England, U.K. ~ 23 July 2023