ON SHIT, ON WATER, ON MAN.

Blown by wind we land at random,

on shit, on water, on man, 

not master of our destiny, 

tossed and turned 

in undecided manner, 

thrown and crushed,

built up, melted down, 

used as weapons, 

shields, a home; 

no knowledge, 

save the thoughts we learn,

coincidences' unsteered wisdom, 

rules,

we meet, 

we separate, relate a while,

until one day our life expires

just giving way to other flakes 

that fall in other years.

The knowing does not slake our fears

it adds to their declaim

our tiny crystal shapes, so lovely

don't end up as saints

We paint a picture pure and white

you burn me up in starlight 

late at night 

and when the sun comes out to blaze

we leave without complaint.