The wind bids me leave you. 
Less hasty am I than the wind, yet I must go.
We wanderers, ever seeking the lonelier way,
begin no day where we have ended another day; 
and no sunrise finds us where sunset left us. 
Even while the earth sleeps we travel. 
We are the seeds of the tenacious plant, and
it is in our ripeness and our fullness of heart 
that we are given to the wind and are scattered. 
Brief were my days among you, and briefer
still the words I have spoken. 
But should my voice fade in your ears, and my
love vanish in your memory, then I will come 
again, And with a richer heart and lips more
yielding to the spirit will I speak. 
Yea, I shall return with the tide, 
And though death may hide me, and the greater
silence enfold me, yet again will I seek your
understanding.