listen with respect, respect all I do.
If questions arise, let them sink back,
into the unexplored wilderness of the track,
that leads one swiftly onto another place,
asks of one, look! into a stranger's face.
Let loose ends flutter as a child's toy may,
so their bright eyes, learn, to laugh and play.
Let a narrow lane way, of stone hard dust,
be even the wilderness track if it must.
Whatever comes to hand, simply grasp and dream,
for the pickpocket steals from all it seems.
To speak no words, to receive only few,
is most likely the very end of you.
So, be it, in lane way , fiery soul or dirt track,
remember, remember well, the new way back.
Trish 22/12/12
No comments:
Post a Comment