Mais sans me...

Like Kate
A distinct morn
Of a day
Sunny
Leaves me
Bereft
Of all...
As if
A song
Going straight into one
One's soul...
A couldron small
A bowl cutglass...
Overflowing...

And
me sits quiet
Quietitude
Becoming
A part
Of an existence...

Quiet...
Like
A distinct bloom
Of a mind...
A beauty discovered
After a long
Tiring stormy voyage...

Sailing to
Jerusalem,
To Mecca,
To Gaya...

And me sings
'Elle me comprend, mais sans me...'
As if plunged into a sea
One is left to float...
Just...

Afloat
A mind,
A soul...

And

A cutglass bowl...
Overflowing...