In the frugality of my soul,
the self exerts and manifests.

Spawning a million 'me',
in the quietness it harvests.

Still I long for that to which I want to surrender,
and wait under 'his' sky and wonder

How long do I wait and help paper boats sail by
and watch from the edge the distance and the 'purple' sky

The sun sets yet another day again
turning everything an orange aglow
and the ripples in the water help my paper boats flow

The process is tiresome and timeless I see
But my faith in you keeps me walking towards thee.