When you lose your grasp on the fragile eves
And tumble down, now lost in green
And the slow sad seep of seething soul
That has made residence in this mind
Searching, searching for blue in the green
Green mass of things rushing past
And for when there is dark,
Let there be made light
When in the night these lights you find
Will lead, not guide
It is truth that you must find
And for when there is truth,
Let there be made lies
Lost in the silent, slow green
Searching, seeking, finding is what you must do
And for when there is silence,
Let there be made sound








