Pablo Neruda wished to do with you what Spring does to cherry blossoms

That old communist, who sought the United Order but knew not where to find it

Just like we

He a long lost son of Lehi, whose best descendants had all things common

Therefore there were not rich and poor, bond and free, but they were all made free, and partakers of

The heavenly gift.

That dream died within two centuries

Just as Neruda’s died with Allende

But then all things must pass

Like Autumn leaves

If they are to whisper forth from the dust

“To do with you what Spring does to cherry blossoms”

Le petite morte

The little death that presages the grand finale

So for now I wish to do with you what the Autumn does to all leaves

And seal you up to come forth again