They only take us as far as the lake,
and there, drop us off, at the shore.
Farther is too far a journey to make,
and nobody promised us more.

By boat light, a mirror, and bubbling wake,
at dawn, as the grass reaches high.
Over, above us, and out to the gate,
where nobody knows what may lie.

Vision before us of untelling shroud,
creaking behind us of wood.
Eyes of no use in this infinite cloud.
Nowhere to turn if we could.

Engine asleep as we paddle by oar,
silence, a critical friend.
Feeling the eyes of the ones who saw,
leading us out to the end.

Shadows bestow on us every fright,
and swimming below, in the depths,
seems a whole kingdom that lives by the night,
allowing us tentative steps.

Wake from this dream, if you think it's not real,
and panic this alley, no more.
Or stay with me here and re-learn how to feel
the light that you left at the door.