Eliot sings

Between echoes

Of memories

And the stars

Laugh to dust

In a hollow heaven

When loneliness brushes

Cold doubt.

Needing another’s soft hand

In the dark,

Remember to climb ahead

And feel the warmth of love’s colors.

How peace abides

Incredibly at odds

Against history!

Sometimes the aftermath

Of furious tornadoes are

Covering puddles

And peacefully bleak mud.

But, I still do not know

Whither I go,

Where to rest.

The birds have trees

And the rodents have their holes.

I still seek

My zones and home

To find my pillow

To rest my head

In the wake of fulfilment.