In my waking life I am not that much,
Just one man, no more or less than
The rest, wearing pants and driving
A car and working a job. I pay
My bills and love my son and
Sometimes I have a little fun.
But not overmuch. At night I lay
My tired head on my pillow,
Sometimes satisfied, sometimes not.
But always tired. I close
My eyes, and sometimes,
In dreams I ply a boat of cedar,
Not a large boat, but sound and fit for
Exploring. I find myself floating
On a river that extends and overflows