dimanche, octobre 23, 2005
images
a boy sitting on a fallen tree
shaving a branch with an old jackknife
perhaps a whistle it is to be
listen to the salmon swim
up the river pass the bank
swiftly pass the young boy's tears
up and away all these years
a gentle tune in the light spring breeze
thin yet lightly sorrow filled
which the wind morphs into a dance of spring
where sadness be gone and birds to sing
do not disturb the boy on the log
he writes his life as he knows
waiting for the salmon in the river
watching death come, and seeing life go
this is written just to remind me of the Idea.
images
meadowed grass by the river bank
a boy sitting on a fallen tree
shaving a branch with an old jackknife
perhaps a whistle it is to be
listen to the salmon swim
up the river pass the bank
swiftly pass the young boy's tears
up and away all these years
a gentle tune in the light spring breeze
thin yet lightly sorrow filled
which the wind morphs into a dance of spring
where sadness be gone and birds to sing
do not disturb the boy on the log
he writes his life as he knows
waiting for the salmon in the river
watching death come, and seeing life go
this is written just to remind me of the Idea.
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