Counting the infinite voyage of the stars
Or thinking of all the drops in the sea
And thinking of the grains of sand on mars
Shrinks my body to microscopic sizes, you see.
Perhaps I'll send a paper plane out in the sky
To watch it fly to distance galaxies of tomorrow
And maybe it'll come right back to where I lie
In my bed of restless thoughts of stress and sorrow.

I'll spill some coins into the street
And watch them tumble by
Just watching them speed by leathered feet
Brings a salty tear to my tired eye.
Because coins have journeys of their own
In the musky old worlds of talk
Once carved straight out of stone
And before people knew to walk.

All the pages in the world wouldn't confuse
What thoughts are born today
Even books created from a powerful muse
Couldn't shake what keeps to stay.
Cause once I challenged God and all
To come down from the clouds
And I stood there sweaty and slipped and fall
To my mind of bewildered crowds.

Maybe now is the time to lay down the sword
Of previous gestures and innocent dust
Maybe now is the time to strike a new chord
To create what inevitably should must.
I'm not retiring from smiles and cheer
And no longer should it be any such curse
As to be what it is to create my own course to steer
No one now has to tell me how to write my next verse.