Often I dream of the countryside.
Where hilltops are  lit with a sunrise. 
Where it's peaceful in the moonlight. 
Life is simple, if not sweet. 
It's odd enough to me to have to be, let alone act an entity. 
I find myself on bended knee. 
Coping only with what will be will be. 
city slicked roads can't guide you home,  but what if asphalt and streetlights are all you've known? 

Follow the breeze to the plush of trees, where everything you say is heard down to the way you breathe. 
The tall green grass stands about knee high, the rush of the stream brings new surprise.  
Country life, 
where the hills roll until they're out of sight. 
And the days unfold until they're out of mind.