What need have I for a princess’s jewels
When I have a frangipani perched on my fingers?
What need have I to swathe myself in velvet and cashmere
When my skin is singed like sienna and burnished by the sun,
And within it my heart is sheltered?
What need have I for heady perfumes
When I can merely lie down on the parched earth
And soak up the scent of the first showers of the season?
Yes, there is a word for it,
For the scent of rain on dry earth
Petrichor (how beautiful it sounds!)
It is now the fragrance of my skin
And all my desires buried within
What need have I for birthdays and anniversaries
When each day of life is a cause for celebration?
What need have I to fear the end
When I have given my all to life
And death has nothing left to strip away from me?