Thursday, January 2, 2014

Outlook

Windswept leaves in life's seasonal storm
I need a place where I can warm
My hands, my feet, this aching heart
But the wind is blowing and I must start
To tumble, twisting along the grass
Across the mountain and down the pass
Then onward, onward, this way and that
Never quite sure just where I'm at
Please make it stop, just let me be
God how I wish for a stationary tree
Those were the days high on a limb
(Although I must say my outlook was dim)
Those were the days up in that tree
(When all I wanted was to be free)
If I had known what I thought I knew
I'd still be there a part of you
When I was up there I wanted down
Once that happened I guess I found
That life is funny, a mystery
Suppose that I should simply be
With my brethren and complete the dance
Enjoy the mingling of luck and chance
To blow and whip and tear around
To skirt and dip and kiss the ground
To hang and glide, to lilt and slide
Make the most until I die...

Well if I do, I think I'll greet
Warmly and fondly the forests' feet
And I shall say; well this isn't sad
I've no regrets with the life I've had

~WPG

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