The wind in my sails
has disappeared;
and I doze fitfully, feverishly
as waves of illness
sweep across the bow
of my little boat.
In the distance
the birds sing cheerfully, merrily.
I yearn to sing along;
but that song must wait.
The healing power of a quiet tide
is what is best for now.
has disappeared;
and I doze fitfully, feverishly
as waves of illness
sweep across the bow
of my little boat.
In the distance
the birds sing cheerfully, merrily.
I yearn to sing along;
but that song must wait.
The healing power of a quiet tide
is what is best for now.
