There’s a line on the sand,
That has no end,
The line you can’t cross
Without being at a loss.
And here is a stick,
Firm and solid and thick.
Your own hand you found
Drawing circles around.
So you look for a thread
From within your own head,
As the feeling begins
To rise inside your limbs.
Sand will crack like concrete
Brushed away with your feet.
Breathe the wind of the seas,
Touch the ground with your knees.
And then you will find
There’s a world passing by,
And a whole bag of whys
Only loosely defined,
And that’s when your mind
Feels like it’s been denied,
Like it’s out of the line,
Out of lines.