It is still dark but the night has aged, soon
Light will break and lift the mists from our eyes.
So let’s make haste and pack our things, the moon
Will soon retire, betray our dream’s disguise.
Roads, farms, and trees, they play our music’s tune
Inviting us to write a poem that sighs
With joy. Bring with you prose and poetry
We’ll read, laugh, and cry when we are at sea.