Three years or so have gone by
Buried longings are again calling my name
I'm bored and a bit anxious
My brain is spinning
I'm drowning in a sea of endless possibilities
I try to stop and feel
My head has a hard time sitting still.
So I write to string my thoughts
What do I want? I wonder.
It's hard to tell
As up to now, I've wandered
Always a dream to follow
A road to walk
An art to learn
A skill to master
A soul to fall in love with
But always before the thrill
This fog, this malaise, this ennui
Every time it gets a bit harder and a bit deeper and a bit longer
Should I give up on me, do as I am told and settle down?
Should I find a real job... and I don´t know
... save for a house?
-But a house is just so big and still and heavy-
I have always thought.
What good would a house be when your feet demand you walk.
I feel for all that once was wild:
the horses, the elephants, the birds...
Nothing saddens me more
than a wild thing in a cage
I crave the sand under my feet, the woods, the wind.
I want to see the trees grow tall
I want the sea to roar, the rain to fall.
I want to be the leaves that know when to let go.
I want to live and love and by doing so,
learn how to die
To be simple
To be free
To be kind
To be wise
I want to do the things I love
Don't want to learn to "monetize"
Fuck being an entrepreneur
You must create if you're alive
And that's it really
It is all so very simple
yet it seems so hard to do
It is now one in the morning
But I've cleared a thing or two.
All I'm certain of right now
Is this very wondrous thing:
If I have to go tomorrow
I want you
to come with me.
For I like the way you root me when the wind is pulling strongly
Roots and leaves comprise a tree
(now I feel I'm getting somewhere!)
All these images of forests are now mixing in my head
I will go to sleep for now
and I'll dream of skies and earth
And tomorrow if I need to I will do it all again
But when I just can't stop rhyming
It's because its time for bed