Found reasons on seasons
To facilitate my observation's path
Mapped out contours body art
With topography on hills and valleys
My palm is to be read
As this tattoo of my habitation
Earth is a line, drawn for directions
Each is my own route map I take
Jail break on thoughts baffles
The avenue of my junctions
Compasses are made from the stars
On the globe I carriage on as a traveler
Between time and space
Each wrinkle, marks a passage drawn
Tomorrow I will be with the cosmos
As a stardust that once walked this earth
