Sr. Verde
Well-Known Member
my feet move slow upon this earth, as I think about life and the miracle of my birth.
I think about those who walked before me, and those who walked first,
those who made it in their travels and those who died of thirst.
I see the trees wave, and their branches flapping like a dove,
mighty gods from day to night catching suns and moons in their gloves..
But I keep my feet moving, my sandals going pitter patter...
Suddenly, the darkness draws my attention above, and things cease to matter.
I think about those who walked before me, and those who walked first,
those who made it in their travels and those who died of thirst.
I see the trees wave, and their branches flapping like a dove,
mighty gods from day to night catching suns and moons in their gloves..
But I keep my feet moving, my sandals going pitter patter...
Suddenly, the darkness draws my attention above, and things cease to matter.