Lost in my lagoon I wander warily.
I think of night’s last spoken words
Echoing deep within my soul;
Resonating lifeline which
I reach out to
And lay them at my idle feet
Asking what shall then be done:
“What maketh thou of thine?”
For all the steps into thy forth
I reach out to my moon,
I reach out and ask myself
Upon the soil I walk:
“For with my gaze
That I spend forth
Away, into thy soul,
Where have I lost my only choice,
Where have I lost my voice?”
With wisdom I have become
A speaking voice for my tribe,
That let alone, that with my own
Shall spread throughout the valley.
And in this valley
Of my own soul
I spread out up to the peaks
And let my voice
Echo deep, and find the lasting grace.