The Way Home
The calm road hangs etched
Mountains frame their meanderings
Know the curve of each twist and turn
Along the path history has memory
Structured centuries ride on it with travelers
Strangers from the past rise on lofty roads
Come to life without word
Tumble past the mind as dust, wind and wild
In a concrete thought, stones lay down on solid dreams
At no cost to strangers lost in fog
Drifters tumble on the wind and wild
The drive remains the same in one direction
Nature adorns both sides with flowers
Constant vegetation is a cause to lead us on
Age grows changes, covers dirt
Knows great distances over the course
To find some comfort at the end of it
From the long journey down the road and gone
at the end of it and to that end
To find a way to back home
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