Would we be the same
if wherever we go
vastly different claims
would question ego.
I sat on a hill one day
imagining my life
wondering time away
wandering in strife
So many of us each time
we think we figured it out
we walk again in line
acting we know all about.
If we could be where we are
if you and me and everyone
were to know just bizarre
our attitude weighs a ton
I wandered off the hill
again wanting only peace
some sort of quiet release
wanting everything to be still.
It isn’t that there is anything wrong,
simply, the realization of a weekend gone,
the days ahead all toil to be sure
inside this mechanical dream we assure.
While yesterday seemed quite away
when suddenly here we are today to stay,
oh it isn’t that the wrongs are right
more the reality of our time in spite.
I wanted to remember you this time
with a bit of a calculated rhyme
yet the days well hours turned to nigh
it was in a sudden fit of overwhelming cry.
A weekend gone, one might want a redo
yet it is important to understand we do
have opportunity always just ahead
to recreate, to reaffirm, to be virtue lead.
A weekend gone, and summertime as well
we have tapped into another state of tell
when suddenly our lives have much matter
for the presence of another is a next ladder.
We walk, we talk, we have similar paths ahead
yet inside a dream we still might be easily lead.
I wonder if it is so easy to recognize
the sweet recall of one time being heard,
when it could be felt,
when word might resonate,
walking along a creek,
listening, the water gurgling forward,
a purpose, a design, an always,
the quiet remedy to a vacant stare
watching, wondering, hoping,
for some reason to pop out of the water
look me in the eye,
suggest the body of life
is the constant flow,
that no matter how far we trail our lives
there is always going to be a need
to continue seeking reason
we stay afloat,
watch the channels change,
the soil erupt from a pressure beyond
only a part of the whole.
still in mourning
a soft reminder
in the quiet of a breeze
the next stage
a would be journey lay ahead.
will be stark extreme
in sensory perception
for some a routine
cycle of life
while others we know
traverse a newer universe
one shares in
I did hear a scream,
It wasn’t a city street
A forest it would seem
To hold so many sound
The wind had calmed
Now in the distant mystique
A cry could be the sound.
An animal I would surmise
Caught in the moonlit stars
A bright horizon left exposed
This creature of the night,
Was simply pre-disposed
To use the carrying sound
To warn the world around.
Haven’t really known a way
Beyond the cover of my chance
I’m listening to the ground,
Yet only when I’m told
The locks have been changed
No new keys to be found,
You’re on your own, is Man.
A creature wild in the deep would
Forever find solace what calls wood.