Statement of Condition

I am a bird; freed from lead and cages,

taken refuge in the freedom of the sky from the slavery of the world.

I am a pen; witness to sorrows even mountains could not bear,

time’s most sweet fruit, borrowed and stolen, childhood’s witness.

I am a melody, flowing from the heart and filling the soul,

a mirror to the surrendered, as commanded.

In truth I am an ant,

a vast drop within my frail body.

I see the fire; the road is long, and the weight of the age rests upon me.

I am prone to fatigue yet I have no right to stop; perhaps water will drown me, fire will burn me,

but it is better to remain on the path than to suffer its absence.

What right have I to so much praise?

It is merely comfort...

Since I am a traveler of this age, may this lament along the road reach the healing station.