Steeped from dreams like leaves of tea
And pushed by puffs of memory gusts.
The mind sails ever o'er this sea,
The past has built an omnibus.
Through storms and fog and nights of doubt,
This vessel sails on former flight.
And never will it come about,
Till hung on shoal or goal in sight.
What cannot seem will come to be.
For every try there is a latch,
For every lock there is a key,
For every key there is a match.
A soul in love steers this course,
Into an end that's yet to come.
It goes beyond the albatross,
To reach and meld two souls as one.
Those that live and love the best
Are souls that join and meet the test.