A morn, like a conversation silent,
By the blue white oceanic sky
seen You like God like fly
As if you are born as light
As if you carry a flight...
And seeing you there
Jetting across like a flint of arrow so gold
As if by Her dint of Hope
A song like sittle dromer boy
With me there deep blue bouyed...
And me sings Joys of your flight,
Your so gold amidst blue white
As if me hath by Your invite
Taken a plunge, a headfall
Into Your running gushing watery Fall...
Like a bird me catches you there so young
Like a tune me catches there your songy morn...