"I'm going, I'm going into the great sea,
Away from the sands and away from the breeze.
I stretch out my form like the lions at rest;
All who have felt me have called themselves blessed.
Though humans are silly, they know me by name,
But have not the wisdom to know my true fame.
I'm older than all who are born under sun,
Though jest with great power--oh, yes, I'm quite fun.
You say I am God, though this cannot be so
I know him, I know him, I know where he goes!
I am the apprentice who follows his trail
Through galaxies winding as if in a veil.
Oh, I do not have form, I do not have time,
To tell you of wisdom and its many rhymes.
There are none who catch me, though many have tried;
Vanity still seeks me, though I'm not obliged.
Scholars inscribed me to fall like an eight.
God's watch does not waver; it never is late."
#29
Leave a comment