Clouded mountains of disregard silent my divine intuition
from seeking me, and together find life and joy.
As the clouds come and go I see and unfold but then they come again
and all seems the same. Not precious to be lost in this lost times.
Decisions decide for me and I look at them disgusted.
For if not I to decide the strings to follow in this morning spring,
what will be of me, falling so not gently on the ground of misery?
There's a quiet voice that's always there but now too much on the way
to hear her linger. For if the road starts to go without the automobile
who's driving? There's a lot of different speeds in life and I've found mine,
but somehow I have lost it now. Reality is talking too loud,
calling me to be something that I never am - this heavy clothes of
anger and doves. Silent wild animal that wanders around civilization,
being her the ground to be next free and sound. Too much of nothing
doesn't bring anything to put your wings in - fly away amazingly.
But no need to fly away I'm contented with walking.
The walk makes it all more intense and concise, beautiful and full of light.