Eyes of a Poet
I’ve weathered storms
Climbed tall mountains,
washed my hands
in city park fountains,
I wake up wondering
what new thing I’ll have to try.
I’ve seen the world through
the eyes of a poet:
Observing while I stand alone.
Never a thought
of wanting to change things,
What can you do
when the seed’s been sown.
The robin rocks and rolls upon receipt
of a young boy’s slingshot stone,
The eagle flies in darkened skies,
and on Friday afternoons
Sometimes I laugh
like a crazy hyena,
Sometimes I howl at the moon.
Well hiddy hiddy ho
and tally tally ho
Too many choices
which way to go?
But, you know, the damnedest thing of all is,
actually – only one way is right.
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Keeping writing the songs that are in your heart.
Peace be with you.