Tuesday, 6 May 2014

First Principles

How hot the sun reflects the moon
We here must wait our place
Depending on our special turn
To not have left without a trace

Deep inside we dream away
Take flight from strange domains
Looking back at what we left behind
Pretend they’re others lives remains

No stepping stone a resting place
where unsteady feet may stand
Let the pull of forward movement
See you wave your reaching hand

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