As I look into the night before me.
That distant sun that died,
Made its way to become my eye,
But I cannot recall being part of the light
That makes up this spectacular night,
As I watch that which died to become me
and then, I get the sense
of looking in a mirror,
I am looking at a memory of me
And in that brief moment,
past and future become entwined
It is conscious of I,
And I become conscious of time,
How old I’ve become in all this flesh,
For I am so much younger now,
Than the time I spent as light in the heaven.