• The night sky is cold, I thought.
    As cold as the grass under my back, I thought.
    The night sky is cold,
    Like the wind sifting through the leaves,
    in the sad, sad willow tree, I thought.
    I thought of the cold night sky.

    The Robin is alone, like me, I thought.
    Like me, the weed's budding flower has no company, I thought.
    Perhaps the Robin and the flower could be each others friends, I thought.
    I thought of friends.

    Is it possible for the full moon and the flaming sun to be together? I thought.
    Would anyone complain,
    if they lived in harmony? I wondered.
    I thought of harmony.

    The sun coming over the lake seems like,
    playing and laughing children. I thought.
    It seems as if the sun is tickling the lake,
    rousing its ripples into playful waves. I thought.
    The lake seemed to be shimmering a smile. I thought.
    I thought of happiness.

    Cold, I thought.
    Sad, I thought.
    Alone, I thought.
    Friend, I thought.
    Harmony, I thought.
    Playing and Laughing, I thought.
    Smiling, I thought.
    That is the field I thought of.