Sometimes I wander alongside my mind,
Surfing the silken waves. I do not cut
The water, because it parts before me,
Inviting me from its high, sun-kissed crest
Down to the hollows of polished azure,
Where sometimes I wander, as does my mind.
Forever have I left no trace behind.
Cushioned by zephyrs, my footsteps are light,
Like a cloud, which bursts as easily on
A dark thorn, as on a heavy rock face,
And can never leave a trace behind.
Light
Written by
in Poetry
