What have I doing
have gone, have been
Who do I think I am?
Where am I going
have doing, am been
What am I believing in?
Somewhere on the middle road
I found a place of sunshine
air and wind.
No place beneath my falling feet
to satisfy my tumbling sent.
What puzzles me is when I’m falling
Head over heels and back again
That I cannot find a resting place
‘Tween heels and hands and eyes.
Have I stumbled, or can I fly?
neumatikos 