Brilliant light blinds my eyes
The sun beats down on my wet face
I see naught else, but feel the sand
My lungs retain an ocean-trace
And the wind blows down from a higher place
Convulsing, sick, one-armed, I rise
I see the earth, yet moist from the midnight tide,
And the wind blows down from a higher place
Looking back, I see the sea, turbulent and deep
I’m sitting now, curled like a child
The earth is firm, and so I weep
But the wind calls down from a higher place
Beyond this shore, I see a waste
I have not seen this land before
And the wind blows down from a higher place
Rising to stand, my body, warlike, sings
Dry winds make me forget the sea
Now I will find the wasteland’s springs
And join the wind in a higher place
