When Far I Go Traveling

When through still and endless land

The winds like waves begin to blow,

And far I go traveling with dust in my hand,

I do not know how far to go.

When stars in murky pools go sailing

Above my wayward head,

I know that my time is failing,

And these nights grow numbered ahead.

When the grass is wet as the mind is dry,

And the fireflies go caroling in fields of black,

The only sound I hear are my footsteps in the sky.

The whispering lights bid me, go back.

When sometimes I go traveling far

Through a long dark curtain of land,

I cannot look away from such perfect stars,

I do not even know who I am.