Dream of the spots you’ve already passed,
While you draw yourself back to where you’ve been last.
Look low and high as you study the maps,
The path becomes clear as you follow the tracks.
Like a thief in the night, I sneak through tunnels long,
Where do I come out? Does my treasure belong?
Though I’m dry as a bone and dusty and dead,
I once let raging waters roar through my bed.