Look at me

Look at me.
You see, I suppose,
an old, stupid face.

You ask yourselves
what is the use of me.
I move the seas around.
I am a pale, cold sun:
I let you sometimes see
your way on a dark road,
though wandering clouds
too often mask my false day,
and I am not wanted
in your cities. But you

should remember this:
from time to time
a person who was mad
in a certain way, has looked
me in the eye. I am waiting:

the blue Earth I look upon
is fearful; you have troubles
darker than any dark. I wait
for a new night-walker who will
catch my eye, and be struck,
and be your guide. I am

wiser than you think.
It may be soon.