Fall to the bottom of the hourglass;
The first grain wedded to the ending of time
Or the leaves on the Poplar Ash;
Die to self, be revived to the rhythm and rhyme
To the silence of all, that of one hand clapping
I'd await the applause, but am known to be napping
Daydreaming in slumber during the changing of season
The spin of the globe, and the embers of reason
Simply sink in the ocean's depth;
Catching wave after wave, sensing sand in my steps
Each drift, every dive, until shortness of breath
Whisked away by the wake's most angelic caress
Just to float in the breeze;
Carried as sediment through the valleys of tree
Then to drift towards the stars,
Out beyond all measure of the near or the far
To be fully at ease, like a soldiers sentiment
Raise a toast, say a speech;
Ladies and gentlemen
Towards the mountains and cliffs,
Casted into the sea
Take a bow, sow a seed,
For the finally free.
