Hold me firmly to your bosom br Lest I’m torn by expectation – br I’m a sapling, roots just taken, br Don’t rip me out before my rain – br In time, we make our way to br Making -within our bounds of given talent – br To lift economies and economic clout, with br No measurable impact – ah, but br Such are aggregates, my dearest Karlton Marx – br If I could hear the silence br Of a cold, majestic mountain, br She would whisper softly, softly to me – br That the mountains never age; br And that living sparks will never fade br Until they burn their fleeting fuel br Of will.