The hydrangeas look tired In the well kempt yards They look thirsty, gasping Like they can't breathe They remind me of old friends They remind me of me
It makes me sad That I get used to the smell Of the dirt, the cold Earth And the flowers and trees And even the sea. They all smell like nothing eventually.
I can hear the stream Way down in the gorge I can hear the leaves falling Soft and slow From the canopy To the gentle valley below
Most birds don't sing So sweet and so kind They chitter hysterically Sharply, calling out For some sort of lifeline Maybe just each other
I wish the Earth could embrace me I do what I can to accept the gracious Reassurance of its magnetic energy Taking solace in the knowledge That eventually the ground will envelop me And I'll dissolve; Raindrop to the sea.