I am part of the load br Not rightly balanced br I drop off in the grass, br like the old Cave-sleepers, to browse br wherever I fall. br br For hundreds of thousands of years I have been dust-grains br floating and flying in the will of the air, br often forgetting ever being br in that state, but in sleep br I migrate back. I spring loose br from the four-branched, time -and-space cross, br this waiting room. br br I walk into a huge pasture br I nurse the milk of millennia br br Everyone does this in different ways. br Knowing that conscious decisions br and personal memory br are much too small a place to live, br every human being streams at night br into the loving nowhere, or during the day, br in some absorbing work.