Could the leaves not fall for me
to tread upon in cold November?
Could the skies not cry for me
with gusty bellows and moans?
Could the grass not grow for me
into endless fields of waving hands?
And could the seas not crash for me
forever singing rocky rhythmic songs?
Could the Earth not turn for me?
No, for I am only human, but
what is more human than believing
the world was made for Us?