On my own

Far above drifting dreams
A memory plucked out of roving mind.
Adrift afar. Tossed gently in the currents
Tracing a lonesome track in the lonely sky
Wheeling and twirling
Catching the last rays of the gentle descending sun
Reflecting pure essence… innocence
It rests now. The wind drops. High it moves
Only to come drifting down

It to a journey infinite trapezes
Having seen magnanimous sights in its travels
The fish teeming in the ocean,
Only to bid adieu in poisoned shores.
The animals in their self same pursuits engaged.
A cycle fulfilling.
Not realizing the reasons.

Man with man, their petty vices indulge.
A thought now. Intensely to follow… and then to discard
It means nothing, their theatre.
Just a wisp of dreamy reality
Seas roar silent,
Their voice long dead

While afar off adrift, the memory of a thousand minds
Cuts a path and observes intently on its own
And a secret of a thousand generations it does treasure
For a correct time. Not to reveal.
Serving a purpose. Already dead
Of past importance if revealed
Its waltz a slow languor displays
While fast moves the world below