Wake at dawn and watch the first light.
And in the space of a breath, embark on a revolution.
Set sail. Trace the contours of an atlas of color.
Tiptoe over the time-worn zinc roofs of slumbering Paris,
Set course for the empty yellow prairies of Patagonia.
Drop anchor in Polynesia, sail across the crystal-clear waters of a remote lagoon,
Stumble across pools of volcanic mud in New Zealand.
Feast secretly on the succulent black tomatoes of Crimea,
Wander through the jasmine-scented gardens of Grasse,
And let the powerful mistral carry you away.
Hoist the sails, head for the open sea.
At high noon, roam around the blinding white marble quarries of Carrara.
Swim among a silver shoal of sardines in Senegal,
Doze in the shade of a huge blue cedar in the Atlas Mountains.
Glean fragments of golden amber on the shores of the Baltic,
Glide over the dark waters of fjords in Scandinavia,
Experience the hushed solitude of ice floes in Antarctica.
Observe time passing slowly, silently, Watch the light fade and vanish at nightfall,
Right here where you were, when you woke at dawn.