My time has come, a calling to the north
From the deepest deep, my soul creeps to the end of the lake,
I my thirst slake, before I finally realise I have to go.
How many ?
How many rivers do I have to cross ?
Am I lost – to the wrath of waters wild,

I am against everything I know,
I am against the river flow,
Silver shiny spaceships up waterfalls go,
Like shimmering angel dust, me and beside me those I know,
Above the crests and rumble of churning water,
Fall onto our heads the sky, threaded with wisps of drizzle,
And daunting cliffs of fear.

But I have to go,
How many lakes up the river do I have to go?
How deep in my mind does the darkness live?
To the inner child I used to know.

For in these foreign lands spanning the lakes,
Are predators unusual and the common snakes,
Over many toils and snares I have already come,
Many mistakes unravelled and discovering the beginnings of some,

My ancestors have crushed upon my soul, the calling of old.
My future – like theirs – has been foretold,
My silver seed shall spread in the arms of the warm sun,
A lover I have ne’er known, there, shall bear me forgotten sons,
And then I will leave, ne’er to look back,
My duty and day been done.

For then I will have found the playground of my youth,
Where I was born, the beginning of truth,
A lost son I am – my father long gone,
A memory of the lakes drenched by the sun,

And then I, like my father, will go,
To where the embryos are none,
To where the shadows run,
And run out our memories of our lives,
To feel the keel split by knives,
To drift into a dizzy spell,
a drunken embrace,
a submission to the wilderness
To face up to my past one more time

How many rivers have I crossed,
For this long to last ?