Cause these people are traveling
Through light, weightless and covered
With the dust of eternity, they're now
Yelling words through distances of
Years and rooms, words ground by the
Misery of love, translucent, born to burst,
Yet hard as a rock.

Rocks, survived by the patience of
Water, sunken in oceans, simulation
Of a loss, of a transformation —
A child is chuckling while putting a shell
To its ear, listening to the swoosh of the Waves.

"Like the swoosh of the waves", the
Gardener is thinking while cutting the leaves, As the wind
Is blowing, surrounded by palaces of glass
And metal, smooth, glistening, built by Nobody for the whispering few.

Cooing, the doves are painting a white
Picture into the sky, and above the sky,
Deeply in space, people are consistently
Traveling through light, through a pale
Reflection, a reflected opalescence of
Earth's light, where deep down the eyes of a Child, putting a shell to its ear, are
Glowing.