Written by: Caleb Smith

My great-grandmother said,
I was born with the trees
And that I was just borrowed,
from the leaves and the breeze.

She said I was rough,
like the bark on an oak.
And like heat in the shade,
my will never broke

She said this is your home.
It made you...you see
And as grass on the prairie,
it will let you be free.

She said your soul is content,
to run in the wild
These things she told me,
when I was a child.

And I've not forgotten,
her eyes' ancient glimmer.
Over all of these years,
I haven't let them get dimmer.

I run with the winds,
that carry the birds.
And I tell my own children,
my great-grandmother's words.

I was born with the trees,
and like them grew tall.
And I remain to this day,
In the woods...of Arkansas.

--Caleb Smith--