It seems like I've been here before
I can't remember when
But I have this funny feeling
That we'll all be together again
No straight lines make up my life
And all my roads have bends
There's no clear-cut beginnings
And so far no dead-ends
Seems all the great lyrics
Were scripted already
With perfect melody
Poets their own worst critics
Futile words hardly melodic or romantic What more hasn’t already been written or said
Fleeting spinning of grinding wheels inside my head
Briefly only before they call you lunatic
Soon the wheels turn again
Splattering puddles and scattering stones
Not like those pebbles on Agawa Beach
That your feet pushed into the cool sand
Sounding like an army on the march
Their thousand heels clicking on pavement
Keeping time with the invisible drum
That beat which keeps you going
Onward, as always
Gentle waves lap at the beach
Then retreat out to sea slowly
Eager diners, plovers and sandpipers
Scurry about for a quick bite
All at once, it seems, the sun disappears
Drawing a straight dark line on the horizon
Separating midnight blue water
From an ever-darkening liquid copper sky
No wonder our planet was once flat
Or so our forefathers thought
Because way out there lies that boundary
Between what we see and what we must believe
The verge of consciousness, present and future
Between today and tomorrow, now and infinity
Stretched out further than our eyes can see
The last discernible word on the page
Where sailboats must surely end their voyage
Bow rising on the final whitecap, the instant
Before floating downward into the unknown
Having reached the edge of the earth…