I was born, have lived and died somewhen
The light from my passing still travelling to the here,
Another parcel of bones and flesh that flared
And flashed on the turning stream of stars.
 

How is it now I see more clearly
The whole of dawn and noon and eve
At one glance, removed like some absent angel
That views the span of sleep where I briefly woke?
 

And laughs at the movement of shade and light
The blue sky and darkened clouds across the earth,
The sparkling fires and sparkling dew
That form and disappear?
 

The heavens thundered above my head,
As below my feet, and rain like bullets
Dug holes in loosened soil to find the future roots
In the muddy depths of what once was.
 

I cannot hold within my hand
The sliding grains and earthy liquid flow
Of present life, returning to its place
To complete this shifting landscape.
 

I am a transparent skin filled with watery change,
A bag of wet possibility.
I am an eye outside my head
Whose vision takes in the universe and the slow dribbling of liquid to the sea.
 

Only this is certain in the ebb and surge of this vast cosmic ocean:
I will be what I have been.
Will I leave faint traces of my tiny trail across it?
Will love and hope still spread from the white foam of my wake?