Why is it that the older you get
The less you seem to care
About all that the world collects
That only helps ensnare

Where don't you know a few short years ago
You filled your pockets with greed
With needless stuff you want and some you don't
Packing them tight selfishly

But age sometimes does us a favor
Of what seemed important then
No longer satisfies in its entice
And you find if you don't have it you'll still live

No longer concerned about the next corner turn
It's more about the here and now
And the happiness you get from that simple fact
Is now what it's all about

There's no need to plan the future
With living life one day at a time
And the older it is that you get
The less you're impressed with the find

It becomes more about friends and family around
And less about the junk in life
That we lined our pockets with just to have
Thinking that's what we needed to survive

There's freedom don't you know in the letting go
Of all the worldly junk you don't need
You've collected here that's muddled the years
That once filled your pockets with greed

A pretty bird born free
That feels beauty is for others

What her mirror sees
Are the blemishes undiscovered

Has a set of wings
Yet keeps them folded under

Born to loudly sing
But took on self doubt as her lover

Lives her life as is
She has never known another

Sitting on her perch
In the cage she's built around her

Could things be any easier
This life born on a breeze
With the wind to my back there’s nothing I lack
As the hand of fortune guides me

Not a single step have I stumbled
With every path straight on the way
Nary a **** this side of the street
Come what will, come what may

Every ship on my sea is smooth sailing
Every mast that I raise flying high
Every move that I make is a piece of cake
Taking this life for a ride

Yes I think this is a keeper
This life I have born on a breeze
No need to ask with nothing I lack
As the hand of fortune guides me

.
          These thoughts
are a haphazard
                 tessellation
of moments,
         sounds
           and scents -

  caught in a
      persistent loop…

         Such it is,
   that they herald
       no known beginning,
and yield
     no foreseeable end.

.

some walk fast
some walk slow
here and now
on the go

some walk straight
some with a limp
some wonder at
what that i meant

some walk circles
around others
hand in hand
with their lovers

walk forward to
walk backward from
single file
one by one

some walk right
some walk left
some don't know
where they are at

and yet they walk
where'er  they go
some walk fast
some walk slow