Natural Tones I am the Springtime of leaves And song of brunt Meadows brief Where the water arms The earth's ploughed Scars Mingling with Moon's soft crust. Capricious images Of nursling plunders Shrouded to announce To the world at large Its blunders And crystallization Of amorphous mass Of feelings & sensations Into significant forms In a universe of values Echoes of inner stance. I am the Spring sap of the leaves And song of meadows brief Scars of earth Peeled and ploughed With bloods of Moon's dried crust. I am the visibility of the day I am the invisibility of the night I am the spring sap of the leaves And the echoes of winter's last rites.