the tree is breathing,
here in spiritual spring…
and i'm writing,
cause i'm not letting me sing
and i’d talk
but i don't know where to begin
so i’ll play with words,
cause that’s my thing...
i'll write a poem
cause it helps me breath
and i know who i am
so why can't i believe
in myself as i am
and then patience - befriend
because here's the beginning
but where is the end?
so many things
float around in my mind
and how twisted it is
when there's nothing but time
and i know i know God
and i know i'm divine
but i can't be attached
because none of it's mine…