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Poem

From my window lofty high
I sit and watch the passersby 
Safely from within the womb
Of this quiet and private room
That's my asylum in the sky
And, I imagine...

From the safety of my perch
Above the elm, the oak, and birch
Alone, I slowly drift through life
Exempt from conflict, chance, or strife
Away from any harmful search
And, I imagine...

From my pinnacle of peace
Much like the eagle, lark, and geese
I wrap myself in solitude
Safely from the multitudes
And their evils that never cease
And, I imagine...

I imagine a world doing good
With folks behaving like they should
A world glowing with brotherly love
That's flowing down from God above
With all faiths lovingly understood
But then...

From this prison lofty high
I'm left alone to wonder why
Why the world became so cold
And, why compassion can't unfold
Out there perhaps a soul could try
But here alone,
                     ...I can only imagine.


                                            Timothy I. Brumley

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