What lies over the long blue line?
Even now, it does not seem so far away
That one could not stretch out arm and hand
To pull back the heavy cerulean curtain.
But do I wish myself wings for flight?
No, for though the birds may come and go,
The line is a reminder of my human limit,
A lesson in propriety and humility of mind.
Will I listen, then, to my instructor?
The teacher bestows on me my education
In patience, in finding a lonely peace,
In the wisdom and serenity of submission.