Lost Poem by Peter S. Quinn

We've lost ourselves on the way
For the small things to come
When end meets night and day
Each life´s short breathing bloom

In nights and dreams to be
Whatever is there from within
How you your own world do see
And how you construe it and spin

So much's there giving and taking
Their dreams to come and play
When what is lost is awaking
For nothing the same will ever stay

You have a certain own universe
Around your fingers and hand
Its involvedness contains stairs
That in time you'll understand

We are lost against this light
In the grain of the sand´s sun
We'll never reach its high flight
For our little time's on the run

Though you can keep on playing
Around those 10 fingers in air
Our tiny dreams aren't staying
For nothing forever's really here