I think it was very informative, but a lot still needs to be done.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.
I am a book of snow, a spacious hand, an open meadow, a circle that waits, I belong to the earth and its winter.
Love is short, but forgetting is long.
The tomato offers its gift of fiery color and cool completeness.
Once more I am the silent one who came out of the distance wrapped in cold rain and bells: I owe to earth's pure death the will to sprout.