Itís life, hiding in the branches,
creeping between the stems,
growing in the gardens, I hope it never ends.

Fly me off this roof, to the
sky where I belong, across the
humble valley, riding on a song

Where itís only the wind that
matters, calling, calling me to
glide above the lake, sails
aloft in the blowing breeze,
watch your toes or youíll get
tangled, high above and
down below are too close
yet far enough, far enough to
see, I see it all, itís not an
ivory tower, itís not a concrete
cell, itís a springboard to the
stars, a highway to the future,
put on the breaks fast as you
can, I donít like this road.

rjw, Spring/Summer Ď88


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