A new journey is about to begin.
Yet I am still stuck in the one that ended a year ago.
Changes are running the air.
Making me think is this life fair?
The hugs that cry from ones that are gone.
To the streets songs that are no longer.
A path that is divided by my truth and now.
To the hunting that one thrill that cure my nerves.
Now the village of my peers is all that I deserve.
That is the mind playing trick of the brain with my heart.
To run a path that is slow and steady.
To jump across cross and get there early.
That is what I must chose and neither one will pick me.
Walking a path that used to lead to your home.
Listening to the wind as it plays your favorite song.
Thinking about the birds fighting the cold as they head south.
Passing the places that dare not speak.
Walking over the memories of the ones that are no longer.
Not realizing the souls, the left this earth here.
Only thinking about the souls that are left to walk this path.
Seeing the trees where swings hang for kids only to think about the fruit that it used to bear.
This is a place that you called home, and others still do.
This path is one that is hard to walk and only a few do it.
You walk it every day.
Winding is blowing the trees down south.
Telling the story that we have all talked about.
Hiding the fact of the pain it holds.
Listening to the sorrow that only a few knows.
Wondering when its turn will be.
Not knowing that place or the destiny.
Just knowing the feeling of something that cannot be told.
Working with other to give strength that it will never receive.
Walking the path that is never common.
Always there to lend rest when in need.
The secrets that are going to the place that no one knows.
The place where only lovers go.
The place where sorrow is home.
The trees down south have a story to be told.