The sea speaks of longing
Songs from lost navigators
Echo in the cadence of dreams
Stowed half-known within.

Perhaps the rain has made it so;
Slanting across vague light
Recalling a memory of itself
Having fallen there before.

Desire is that wind somewhere
Blowing the hair from your eyes
Agitating damp leaves away
From a child's tree-house.

Only the dreamless forgo
The pain of things that will never be
As stars give out their grave glitter
In otherwise boundless dark.