Man of time, man of sand,
Take the beauty by the hand.
Walk through misty shadows brisk,
With lonely unclenched hand of fist.
Bring to me the dust and wind,
Into my heartfull eye of sin.
Run as weeping children lay.
For whispers of a starlight day.
Then shine diverse into the storm,
As winter brings the skies to warm.
And hollow bent upon the brow.
Of nowhere here and somewhere now.