It's nothing
p·e·r·s·o·n al

It's everything
person a·l·i·t·y

Sleep is to unlife
More than being is for some
Merely escapeism

And then suddenly
Your own faculties
In addition, to
The most incredible teaching, un
Are pull apart by time
And designated by others, only
Until such freedom re-arrives
At the turning of adulthood tides
And even then still
You too must return, suddenly

I can hear
As it (comes)
With a distant approach
And a whisper which mingles
With treeward sounds

The rain (which gives)
Unabashedly as it pours
It summer heart out
Over and down
On us

It approach, quiet