The road wanderers take is beautiful
There is a dirt path through a shaded wood
The sunlight throws knives through the tree leaves
Piercing the ground, casting beams of radiant light
The buzz of bugs and insects by the bushes
My footsteps crunching in the dry leaves
The soundtrack of the wild
Along this path, there are genuine lapses of time
There is no knowledge to be known
Only the consciousness of mind and present awareness are needed
The tall oaks grow in rows in patterns unknown
Twisting lines of savage undergrowth crawl across the ground
This is no time for lonely feelings
It is time for dance and revolution
We are the chiselers of history in the stone tablets of time
Is it real?
The ever waking vision of the world around us?
We are the decision makers as we travel onward
Tumbling through shiny days and hooded nights.