For you, my friend, I have a gift:
The endless, and the infinite-
and all that can come of them.

And if you'd like to like it, do so.
And if you don't, don't.
But it's all the same.

Life is one holy river, with ebbs and flows.
It comes and goes, and knows no time.

For you, my friend, there is no end.
But beginning will begin to see;
the island of days drifting into a sea of confusion.

The mind stays steady as your fingers race
up and down the alphabet
tapping a dance across a key board
this is a poets voice,
singing songs plucked out of the great silence.

Night, gripped by future thoughts I lie,
Mind nocturnal, never blinking eyes,
Day's events and those to come don't rest only rush
Heart hastens shadowing  pace, moves respite out of touch

Perspective the enlightener sprouts a shoot,
A momentary distraction which begins to take root

Breath is vacuumed slowly from nose to chest,
Streaming laden air out, a peaceful wind lays upon breast,
Mind slows recognising nights familiar touch,
Sleep content, knowing, I'm but a mindful piece of dust