This monochrome dawn is breaking.
Will grumbles of her own concerns.
I do not remember my dreams, but I do stride in the direciton of my will.
I am learning to speak again.
I am learning to care about the mundane world again, and I am unafraid anywhere, to ask in certain terms, if you would like to spend some time.
I remember every alley, from Missouri to Mussoorie, and all buzzing lamps we've driven past.
Here on the outskirts, I look and see the lamp of the human heart, undimmed and radiant, one beacon to call a city to attention.
We are fabric, and I am thread, let me not forget.
We are tapestry and I am image, let me not fade.
We are mosaic and I am tile - alone I form nothing.
We are city and I am street, same as you, and only worth knowing if we're all on the level.
We are water, I am water, and this monochrome dawn sends all of us skyward.