I am the weakest of all things.

In spite of the sunshine

I sit silent and alone

Rubbing my rheumatism

Forgetting to watch the world

Or to feel your pain with mine.

These arms, like sticks, afraid to move

So weak, I can’t believe I live

Like a broken flower in the sun

Still not even humble

Full and powerful

Power in my heart

Strength and living in my mind

This great strong soul is me

Lives ever, does all

Masters what it sees

Broken strong

And bent to spring and hurl up