To Sail Towards the Fires of Dawn

Is it true that we can only write

Of things we have experienced,

Is it not possible that we

Were here before the world commenced?

If an ancient tree from tiny seed

Was witness to the changing age

Might we not see through inner eyes

The visions of the seer and sage?

And yet we live with blinders on

Favouring the narrow view

Fearing unknown foreign lands

We leave the harbours that we knew

To venture on uncharted seas,

Depart the island-nature's home

To sail towards the fires of dawn

Where the soul in us may freely roam.