Oh four bell, in twenty set sail
glass to lip, a smoke signal sip
sets benign mind suns to rise
in the West. Circumspect,
my memory strains, I sit and face
Far East toward the warm rains,
play some Palmy and meditate
upon where we'll meet again later.
And, should I merit the chance,
I would dance to the Equator
from the Tropic of Cancer to
abide for all time, to roam the sky
among the Universal Mind,
sabai jai. 🙏🙏🙏.