I have been gathering unruly sheaves And filtering life out of assortments Hunting in wildernesses Falling and getting up Cutting myself on thorns And painfully healing Getting wet in the sun... In wanton drifting, Eking out exotic joys and pleasures Amongst strange familiars You have been secure in your esoteric fort Smoothing out all unpleasant edges Throwing out roots... You have grown in stillness Familiar stranger While I have grown Apart