Transcendence

What hasn't yet been swallowed by the billowing winds of change
catches itself in between the lines in my palms
that I stare at each morning as the sun shakes off its dust
in the quest for a clean, blue sky.

I wash my hands in the pearls thrown ashore
attempting to see nothing, hear no song nor see any dream;
but it has already stitched itself onto my eyelashes
that throw me in lands, I only can wish to see.

A land where transparency reigns over the transient world.
At the least, I'll know what's coming.
And where I'll not be going.

~Hemu