Towards the ancient fig tree
That stood on the precipice
Of an unending sea,
With the sun rising high above
The three sailing ships
There cast three shadows,
Though their colours were ever changing
And shimmering within the rolling waves.
And we saw, as they approached
Their shapes transform,
As though imitating some strange symmetry
Within our own heads,
The ocean of our minds.
We were still;
The waves rolled on;
And the ships came in to the shore
Where we sat.