It is it
A wide open eye
our umbrella
staring awake
seeing all
receive its vision
in dreamshine
we remain dry
while on high
beyond all skies
exists nothing
which our greater eye
needs protection from
unblinking with no shield
it lowers the lids
for all men to yield
to dreams in which
they come to see
what we are
but what are we
must ask again
when we awaken
every morning
slowly coming
to our senses
if not the manifestation
of that countenance
which never sleeps
nestled below
in this blue nest
farthest from the deeps
to get some momentary rest

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