are very long
when we return at night from haying
but we ourselves are small

The camomile clasps its hands together
as if in prayer
A woman with a sickle creeps up the hill
as she did a thousand years ago

Beyond the courtyard
the heath
beyond the heath forest

Heather heather-colored
whither dost thou fly little bee
that heaven
is so vast and void
once we will return
once we will all return

—Jaan Kaplinski, “Our Shadows”
Art Credit Pakayla Biehn, oil and acrylic, 34” x 20”

2:33 pm  •  4 January 2013  •  56 notes