I sit again cross-legged now,
Swaying to and fro.
On my swing, alone as always,
The safest place I know.

Where peace has always found me,
On the wings of wind's soft touch,
For a time I thought that it was free,
But in truth, it cost so much.

The leaves, they fall around me,
Flowers bloom to die again,
I hear the sounds of living somewhere,
But my swing is where I've been.

A few hands did try to shake me,
But I rocked so out of fear,
Of where leaving just might take me,
So I chose to just stay here.

But the boards, they are now creaking,
From the weight of courage lost.
Yes, I used to think my peace was free,
But I know now what it cost.

It cost me the love and cost me the joy,
Hope strived so hard to bring.
And no peace can be found in that,
Not even on this swing.

Sometimes just for nostalgia,
I re-read the poems of the past.
You wrote with such conviction,
And a hope which did not last.
But just to see those words again,
Makes my world again so clear.
Filled with courage, without doubt,
The days of yesteryear.
When all the "black and white" of it,
The search for a perfect tree,
"Trouble" in all it's glory,
Meant everything to me.
And though I no longer speak it,
And all hope is gone it seems,
Believe me, not one day goes by,
When you aren't in my dreams.