I ripped my roots from the ground that was so comfortable and secure for
so many years,
I left the warmth and familiar,
Walked away from so much that I loved,
Walked away from so many years of labor of love,
Stumbled along wondering what, where, how,
Was comforted by a few,
Ignored by so many.
I blindly stumbled and fumbled through the woods,
Searching and searching and searching,
For what I wasnít quite sure.
Running out of energy and hope,
I tried one more driveway
That earlier I would have rejected,
And said, Letís try it.
It seemed to be a fight every step,
And that was probably my glue.
Like walking in a field of endless corn rows,
You stop counting the stalks,
There are so many ahead of you,
Does it matter how many behind you?
Iím getting a glimpse of the fence line ahead of me,
I know thereís a lot behind me,
I like the stalks around me.
At the fence I will turn around and like what I see.
At the fence,
I will say,
Job well done.
Blind vision is scary,
Blind vision is beautiful,
Blind vision is deep in your body,
Blind vision MUST be trusted.
Sixty years to accept.
Set your roots down
You are home
The Pileated hammers away,
oblivious of it's extreme beauty and uniqueness.
It does what it does,
It says what it says,
Oblivious of it's extreme beauty and uniqueness.
The mountain is two bourbons and two sakes beautiful.
The Hummies fight,
The rabbits eat and eat, shit and shit, and they're happy,
The air is cool and good sleep is on it's way.
Students ask, "why are you here?"
I answer, "I don't know, I am just here".
Students say, "Oh my god, I didn't know".
I say, "that's why you are here".
Walking in the desert,
walking and walking,
you wonder how can I go on,
it starts to rain,
you tilt your head back,
and you drink and drink,
then you walk and walk.