This I have known:
to rise, a white feather in perfect silence
upon the flowing voice,
a wisp of smoke, a dry leaf,
to wander widely on the warm breath
of Love.

This I also know:
to float, a stick on the tide,
now submerged,
now riding invisible currents,

Going I know not how,
until one day, when it shall please the King,
I shall sink gently gently into His hand.