Once in a dream, I found myself,
somewhere in ages past;
barefoot walking a dirt road,
around me cherry leaves drift fast.
I had no rank, but carried water,
to kings and clowns alike,
on my fountain head.
I could laugh at both.
In those woods, by myself,
drowsy under a tree,
I watched daylight fall from midnight’s shelf,
and shatter into light.
Not too far from where I dreamed,
ran a river like a snake.
Under Sol’s bright watchful eyes,
I walked the same path every day.
Somedays I would have to walk,
that old jug upon my head.
Singing in that wilderness,
while still asleep in bed.