You point to the sky

The sky

Is reflected in your eyes

And I

Want to fly

On a carpet of brown leaves

We retrace the steps of change

Construct a tapestry of what will come



You point to the sea

I see

What seems to be so free

Bound by

Empty sky

On a tower of gray earth

Far above the spray-struck stone

We climb toward the melting point of time



Here we tumble down the path

Comic beggars trading laughs

For scraps from the tables of the wise