About
I am
Mistrustful of the silence of
chimneys and the dust on
violin cases.
Now go
to your master
and thank him
for your hands,
your throat, and your eyes,
Let your workings remain a mystery,
may you herald your own cures,
and turn freely,
from interference, competition, and robbery.
go to your master
and thank him,
for keeping you
older than the world.