Will it come in a thimble or maybe a bucket
perhaps as a soft meandering stream
sitting with toes caressed in the current
dreaming day dreaming while watching the clouds
Or maybe one day blowing sand stings my face
hear the roar of the surf see the surge of the waves
do I foolishly dive alone in that maelstrom
riding yes riding all the way back to shore
Oh Master oh Master I see the sky churning
I feel the light mist now turning to storm
for this my soul has been anxiously waiting
will I then turn back or get soaked to the skin
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