I once knew how to lose myself: 
 Inside a book, a song, the trees,  
 An autumn day, a summer breeze, 
 A carnival, two deep brown eyes, 
 The restless friends with whom time flies -- 
  My heart lived on a wider shelf 
  When I knew how to lose myself.

I once did not the whole world feel, 
 Just each thing that I saw, or heard: 
 A distant train, a mourning bird, 
 My mother humming in the yard, 
 The shuffling of each last card -- 
  The day seemed so much less unreal 
  When all I felt was what I feel.