Glad To Be Lost... Poem by GRANT FRASER

Your going to have to crawl
up, out of the grave..

If I'm to finally, face you!

Your going have to send me,
on a long, long, trip,

And talk to me sometimes
as well,

Out of blue glass
way back on Earth,

With words suspended,
stripped out of clean air,

Are you still there,
can you see me,

I mean what is life really for,
answer me that?

Don't seem to be able
to find it in sages,

I mean it's taken me
54 years to get here,

It's the Fast Age,

And If it's not too much
of a problem,
I'd like something quite
new, or special to grasp,

Before we go...

And you,
you seem
to think
you know!

But I can't go,
and it's not
my plight,
to feel it
like that,

It's like a Cosmic
drift,

With the inner part
always about to split open,

It's even partly in love
with dying, and hard to figure,

Don't let if find
you until your balanced,
fully ready,

In another life time,
A whoosh! contracts..