The Way
The way
The wind rushes through the fields
I am but an object that sees and feels
The landscape changes as weather does the deals
I want to sail on clouds that blow by like Catherine wheels
The light across the long trees change as if to camouflage perspective into something surreal
I have to know what it feels like to be attached to the earth and the great secret of placidly growing and giving to heal
The graveyard I stand in now is so peaceful but yet at last I sense the atmosphere change and hundreds of souls howl in my head and they too are real
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