Picture a man Seen like a speck out from the shore Swimming out beyond the breakers like he’s done his life before He feels the coming of a squall will drag him out a greater length But knows his strength And tries to gather it
And he swims on Turning back to shore again Above the outer atmosphere of a world he’s never seen And looking down to his new home, he feels the rising of a wave And knows at once he will not weather it
Like that man I looked down into the depths when I met you I couldn’t measure it
Any time I’ve struggled on Against the course Out on my own Every time I’d burn through the world, I’d see That the world, it burns through me But when I’d let go My struggling form My willing soul Every time I’d flow through the world, I’d see That the world, it flows through me That the world, it flows through me
Picture a grave Picture six feet freshly dug The sharp temporary walls at the long-term cliff edge of the world Light and air find some new deepness there and usher down the sky Where one stands by and tries make sense of it
But try measure loss Measure the silence of a house The unheard footsteps at the doorway The unemployment of the mouth The waking up, having forgotten And remembering again the full extent of what forever is
With each grave I think of loss And I can only think of you And I couldn’t measure it
Any time I’ve struggled on Against the course Out on my own Every time I’d burn through the world, I’d see That the world, it burns through me But when I’d let go My struggling form My willing soul Every time I’d flow through the world, I’d see That the world, it flows through me That the world, it flows through me