last night I nearly lived,
in dream so make believe,
such a turn of sunshine

and hope was always true,
could cast away my sorrow,
beyond the dream horizons,

i saw painted, dim lit boats,
shrinking blue into oceans,
skipping in longest tides,

only wings can take me
there, to the outter shores,
beyond the dream horizons,

i cannot fly, I then thought,
as the lone seabird sails,
as such an angelic thing,

but see the sky is an arc,
any wing can show you,
just lend an limb or eye,

across the sun waves,
are new lands to make,
before any moon rises,

the sky is clearly woven,
skerries and the frosted
banks are steeply melting,

a lone grey gull cries over,
seabird in soul ceremony,
solemn with climbing sun,

i cannot fly, I then thought,
as the lone seabird sails,
as such an angelic thing,

merely I am human now,
awake from dream horizons,
dead alive without wings.