Though time has built
an
endless warp
of
suffering and pain
the
ancient dust of Africa
is
breaking down the chain
can you hear
the
winds of change
shifting
through the brain
the
ancient dust of Africa
makes
diamonds
in
the
falling
rain

You were Peter Pan
To my Wendy.

A Lost Boy.

Who only wanted to know...
that His Voice
Mattered.

For it meant...
He was finally
Loved.

And that meant ...
It was safe to mature.

M♥️ther Earth
always
had a tangible spirit
without the circle
where will our heart sit
could
we even begin to remember
L?ve

seeing things I don't know,
learning things I won't remember
another year with nothing to show,
sitting through a bitter December.

already running in circles,
still care about drawing lines.