| I hear my mantra through the foliage On the side of the freeway And footsteps in the puddles leading to anything and everything There is blue sky on the ground all around Strange and accented ripples cascading across the surface When I am old I would hope to catch one last glimse One last time before my eyes fail Standing beneath a halo of a sun I know that when my vision goes I'll see in strange illuminations Like apparitions |
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