I lie here,
But I suppose they had a reason.
I have, once again, been knocked down.
A pessimist I am not, but
I will not get up,
Not this time.
I will rest gracefully below this sky.
I will study what I see.
And what I see above me are clouds.
In those clouds I see what I need.
But it seems, it is here
nestled in grass and one with Earth
Is what I want.
When my heart ceases to race,
When my heart ceases to be,
What time will the sun read in this sky?
As the wind envelopes and hugs what is left,
I ask that it sings such a hum,
That I am never truly gone.