Nineteen winters through which I've been
Truth it splinters, only shards we see
Seek no more now, look again tomorrow
And rest knowing there is only now.

And the more I'm reaching, the less I see
that what I need is in my hands.

Twenty summers spent so lonely.
Blowing ghosts into the wind to ease my soul.
Moments flow, and still we divide
Wishing inside to be larger.

And the more I'm living, the more I see
A fool is one who fights the sea,

And everything is around.
The touch. The taste. The sound.
Do we resign ourselves to the ground?
In silence ghosts are found here.