I'm here but I'm not, where have
you been they ask. Right here but
my thoughts are not with me.

Not out of body just out of mind,
I'm not crazy I'm sane as the next
person, hopefully not crazy because
so would I.

I just think of places, people I would
rather be, to see, the expression of
blankness is me travelling in my
own place.

I'm not ignorant, I don't ignore those
around, this place is so violent so much
misery. In my place I am safe with those
that are there we are in peace, I am here
but elsewhere are my thoughts  its just
the place I'd rather be.

The robin’s wings flapped up and down as sun’s first light lay on her crown.
Flying, gently flying.
The stars shined high up in the sky, a glowing comet floated by.
Flying, gently flying,
The child laughed as his kite flew, he ran through grass all dabbed with dew.
Flying, gently flying.
The dandelion felt a draft of crisp, clean air support its shaft.
Flying, gently flying.
From way down low to far up high, from dew-dabbed grass to deep blue sky.
Are gifts that guide us, everywhere, from flying birds to crisp, clean air.
And these are those that earth is drowned, that surely make the world go round.
The place where everything is always, flying, gently flying.