To usher in
the wind of change,
you have to make room--

you must rearrange.

To slumber in fields
way down by the sea,
to be haunted by the scent
of sweet ambergris.

Where the tolling
bells of time will mend
those long, lost hours
when you needed a friend--

they will resonate with
reason until the end.

Go ahead and reach
for every star in the sky,
don't ever get hooked
on Who? How? or Why?

When you open your sails--

your dreams are in reach.
Ships are made for the ocean,
not for the beach.






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