my dreaming drifted in the breezes, an aroma pleasing to the process
my thin breathing to exhale strands of words lighter than atmosphere

my wondering floated through the smog, emerging a dirty hope
my hands quivering from the desire, what we know of the universe

my eyes traveling into the infinite horizon, the epiphany of angels
my thought pouring into the world stream, wet with creation

my light is a poor candle, and cannot illuminate my reflection
my life is a curious leaf, descending from a tree that forgets