I want to leave myself
and where will I find you?
Through the lull of tides
or in the shimmering wood
Can I leave myself behind?
Through the grave undertow
in the depths that press upon me
the water will bring comfort;
wash away the sundry sparks
leaving polished stone to linger.
Let the moon play out her cycles;
let the sun lay down her rays;
in this, will I see myself?
The throat of the bird will tremble
with her joy or with unrest, a sigh
along the banks of the river or
through the arch of the blue, blue sky.
At evening, all the world will lie
for the hands of darkness send me
Will I lay me down more quietly
and there in dreams find myself?
