Lost at sea as the sun goes down
and day puts on its night-time gown,
and time and tide keep on their round
of ebb and flow,
of come and go
of the embryo
that daily dies at dusk.
Lost at sea as dream-time waits
in the wings that dark creates
with its false, enticing, baits
of other ways
on other days
when, bearing rays
of light, the sun beguiles again.