to the birds you gave songs, the birds gave you songs in return.

you gave me only voice, yet asked for more, and i sing.

you made your winds light and they are fleet in their service. you burdened my hands that i myself may lighten them, and at last, gain unburdened freedom for your service.

you created your earth filling its shadows with fragments of light.

there you paused; you left me empty-handed in the dust to create your heaven.

to all things else you give; from me you ask.

the harvest of my life ripens in the sun and the shower till i reap more than you sowed, gladdening your heart, o master of the golden granary.