I am gone But my memory lives, Because a man Wrote a poem About my leaves, My roots and branches, My earthly wisdom Now turned To dirt and dust. Who will write That man's song? Who will sing Of what he learned Once he, too, Is gone? Sister sun, Brother tree It is they Who will sing Of him, When he Has joined with me? That is our Wisdom Man and tree. One leaf and branch, One life Are we. That Truth, perhaps, Someone else Will someday also see.
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