To become what you are not, behave as you do not.

No place of grace for those who avoid the Face. No time to rejoice for those who walk among noise and deny the Voice.

So I find words I never thought to speak In streets I never thought I should revisit When I left my body on a distant shore.

Thinking of the key, each confirms a prison.

I grow old … I grow old … I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

We shall not cease from exploration

I had seen birth and death but had thought they were different.