Dwell Here

In the sands, in the sea,
in the palm of my hands, such glee.
To dwell everywhere at all times,
unmistakable pastimes.

A place in the sky,
near the sun,
or not that high,
below with the none.

To exist yet no self,
before itself light,
the maker of fright,
not the trophy but the shelf.

When we all see,
that will be when,
forever time to be,
bliss and question when?