Your guitar lies unused, forlorn
You will never be coming back home.
I remember the one you made
Wood and strings and song
...
Then come to me with the breeze ruffling your hair
The setting sun in your eyes
The same blue as the sea and the skies
...
Each month consists of a million days.
Days that spin out endless hours and thus
Earth whirls around the sun; a mad cosmic dance
Repeated because it cannot fail.
...
In those familiar corridors I saw you in your room
I saw your head bent over papers
When you raised your head and saw me
I dreamt I dreamt I saw
...
Tell me then your perceptions of the past
Tell me why hard facts are hard today
Facts tomorrow, then gone away
Do facts, then, rarely last?
...
Storm in my brain, no, not again
Suddenly the moment snapped
My life lay broken in my hands.
...
The supposed focus of emotion and intellect
The body and the brain
The point it all began
The conception of identity
...
The turning point in every life
Comes suddenly
Nothing to signal its presence
Sometimes even intuition falls flat.
...
Stand near the light; don't walk towards the door
I'm myself, quite myself
Though quiet inside, I don't know.
...
Like wings that rustle softly, emotion is fleet-footed
And transient. Not bogged down by mire,
Able to dance and then run wildly, not gravity borne
The intensity at times cannot be borne,
...