D'où Venons Nous / Que Sommes Nous / Où Allons Nous Poem by Jay Alexander

a dream, mere flotsam, swept in by a sea,
elusive jetsam, jagged branch of a tree,

transparent pebbles, pink, green, swirl,
scooped-up and sieved by hands of a girl.

day turned violet, far as eye could see,
except where a glimmer of light broke free

a warm wind floated around naked forms,
man, woman together would face coming storms,

no need for fear, no need for dissent,
just lying together the sky for a tent,

staring up at this mottled crown,
they saw it was good, they knew it was sound.