The road is long which stretches before me,
twisting, curving in its earthly glory.
I’ve walked here many times with sin to pardon,
seeking release from my every burden.
Today I wished to tread again
the peaceful soil of my childhood land,
To hear the birds singing overhead,
but I hear the highways instead.
The galling sound of traffic going by,
Shouting over the little sigh,
I’ve expended slowly, wistfully,
After my serene life in the country.
Feb1