Go To Sleep

The seeds of youth
Are sewn
Into the vacuum of space
And so begins the race
To the top of the mountain
Where we hope the perspective is clear
So we may look down upon
That which we hold dear
To confirm that we understand
To offer an occasional helping hand
To steak a claim to this land
And when we feel the tide coming in
We turn gray to blend with the mist
To become the fog
The free floating particles
A spectacle from the top of the mountain
Slow melt into the ocean
Go from whence you came

Reviews

[...]

. beautifully written and expressed ...
. though one hopes some would be more than "the fog" ...