We are lacking in the fashionable ways of life,
Uninterested in the razzmatazz and belong somewhere far from the earth,
Our souls corked and teeming with colors and words and rain and sun...
and thoughts.
The followers of the day and the night,
The stars and the clouds,
The listeners of the bees and the swaying trees and the ocean.
The understanders of the wordless and the keepers of many souls.
We are astronauts floating in space, lacking an objective,
But seeing the stars and reaching out to them,
Committing the only appropriate fraud of stealing the sight of what is behold,
Locking them into our collection of the night sky and a rainbow from one rainy afternoon and creatures and words and locking them into our corked soul.
