Locked inside my office, I await a crucial call.
I glance a glimpse of a yesterday suspended on my wall.
I find myself on the tail of a trail of a backlit butterfly
I, Dirt, Water, Seed
And in this state, I concede to be freed
We escape, both to the sky
Dig, Sip, Nurture, Feed
In a state of wonder, never wondered why
This is just a place to go
With room to run
And more to grow
I carry it along!
From a plot of land springs a hill and a tree
Much less than all they mean to me
What fate can relegate to song
Can’t help but set me free
I don’t know at all
How could this be wrong?
From some dirt sprang forth a tree
The spectrum bends and the schism of a prism
leaves us with some em’rald thing
Self, Limb, Apple, Mind
Kaleidoscope, for a turn do I yearn
Can I hear my voice then sing
Climb, Bear, Nourish, Find
It’s a question of, what we’re questioning
Much remains to still be shown
To the only nouns I’ve ever known
Is this where I belong?
From a plot of land sprung a hill and a tree
Much less than all they meant to me
Deep within the hill, will my roots hold strong
So the winds won’t whip me free?
Well it’s clear to see here that I belong
‘Cause this dirt gave birth to me!
Sunlight, green light, chloroplast
Come catch a wavelength, have a blast
the rustle of the leaves the bustle of the rain
Exhale into yesterday
The more you grow, the more you sway
the bumble of the bees the rumble of the train
Fallowed life grows up so fast
Now spread your roots into the past!
From a plot of land springs a hill and a tree
Much less than all they mean to me
What fate can relegate to song
Can’t help but set me free
I don’t know at all
How could this be wrong?
From some dirt sprang forth a tree
The spectrum bends and the schism of a prism
leaves us with some em’rald thing
Self, Limb, Apple, Mind
Kaleidoscope, for a turn do I yearn
Can I hear my voice then sing
Climb, Bear, Nourish, Find
It’s a question of, what we’re questioning
Much remains to still be shown
To the only nouns I’ve ever known
Is this where I belong?
From a plot of land sprung a hill and a tree
Much less than all they meant to me
Deep within the hill, will my roots hold strong
So the winds won’t whip me free?
Well it’s clear to see here that I belong
‘Cause this dirt gave birth to me!
But, what new perspective can a watercolor bring?
I plant my head upon my desk in time to hear a ring.