countless times below me rivers rose and fell ageless stones eroding out across the endless swell songs to pave the seasons wounds to follow birth cries to carry through the night wombs to feed the earth countless skies above me each unlike the next lines of more than moon and sun glimpses of a text countless hands have sought me reaching out in vain permanence observes without compassion or disdain flames to greet the harvest storms to face in awe winds to weave through every wood walls to dull the road purpose lost to frailty craning blades of grass strength and weakness on and on all that is will pass countless hands have sought me reaching out in vain permanence observes without compassion or disdain flames to greet the harvest storms to face in awe winds to weave through every wood walls to dull the road countless waves around me strong until the last leaning into dimming dreams all that was has passed1