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