It's very easy, I've found
to become lost in the sound
the bustle of life which is always around
the booming conditions in which I have drowned
But when I sit still, without moving a muscle
when I pay no attention to all that does bustle
when I separate myself from the world that shaped me
that, my friend, THAT is when I am set free.
There is no other time in which I understand
the sound of life, so glorious and grand
the knowledge that Earth, so scarred and hurt
is far, far more than a just pile of dirt.
She breathes and sings her gentle song
for listeners, anyone, to sing along.
Because I have immersed myself in what I thought to be living
that cold concrete towers had a heart that was beating,
I have become uncomfortable with the peaceful feeling
of stillness and silence, short of her singing.
For what am I without my busy way of life?
what would I do without my troubles and strife?
I have yet to hear her answer, that I know
all I can do is wait, and listen to her song ebb and flow.