From where I stood   I could see the tides receding   Counting on the up leaves me   Counting on the down, it seems      Steady, steady calm   I am the language of the windmill   And though I cannot tell   Where my body meets the ground, it seems      In a fashioned line   I am uncertain and untied   On fractured thoughts and broken sentences   And after all is done   I can lie down and shut my eyes   Of open air and without fences      When I stop my head   I can feel the movement swelling   It's coming up around   It's always coming up around, it seems      In a fashioned line   I am uncertain and untied   On fractured thoughts and broken sentences   And after all is done   I can lie down and shut my eyes   Of open air and without fences