I wrote a verse some years ago, for the man I knew I’d meet.
Not for anyone that I knew then,
but for what winged story might come
on welcome feet.
I was feeling poorly then
but I knew the weather would change
As it always does,
the sun comes out after the rain.
So there I sat, digging up soil
and turning ‘new’ ground
when I discovered something of note.
The inspiration I sought was lying right there
just under the surface of busy care.
Come forward with me a moment,
to the point where I am now.
I’ve lived to try some different things
and see what works or not.
The life I live is a richer life indeed
than the one I was living then.
Closed up behind locks and windows
as I traveled down the road.
Now I see,
a life that is different from that life then.
I know the ambrosia of the sweet night vines I pass,
I feel the coolness of the forest, and the warm nectar of dripping rain.
These things tell me where I am, the way my great-grandmother knew before.
Shut up behind the day’s stresses,
dulled by the music I drank in,
I knew nothing of my senses.
I simmered in the stew of discontent
and dreamed of dreams put on hold.
Too busy with the cares of the day
too preoccupied with love unrequited,
or opportunities missed.
Too tired to live my own life!
I knew nothing of this.
I love long walks, this is true,
and perhaps this ride is the closest one may get
and still give life its due.
But nevertheless, the life I have
the connectedness I own,
is worth fighting for;
worth the time I have grown.
No matter what brought me here,
to this moment, this day,
I will live my life in my very own way.