Sitting on a hill under under the stars, wondering just were we are. “Hush” says the wind beckoning a silence I have seen before.
Thinking for an answer.
One that will tell me more,
Oh bird sitting in that tree
What can your voice tell me:
Are we floating in the great bellying or trapped in a state never to escape.
Are we dreaming of an evolution of man.
Are we seeking a cause gr Ayer than ourselves.
Or are we voice of the wind just billowing in the wind, stuck but alive.
Great flowing river rushing faster than a breath but calmer than a storm?
Or are we rushing with the ocean during a storm.
The answer lies in the strength of man.
I’m power exulted. .
SimonB writes 