Dirt and gravel, road never ends,
Might as well pull up a chair, my sin.
keep going round the bend.. the town folk all stay here.
Up ahead, top of the hill,
look over it’s edge to find waters still.
only if your able, will you take a look..
Brave enough to see yourself, blurred image in the brook.
A cozy little town of lights, shining upward sky
Each households windows glow so bright,
warm breath escapes, you sigh.
Dark, stone, beckons…take a seat
Rest your bones at last
take your time, things you’ll find are magic if you last.
Sleep next to it, in its bed
Dark forest hiding fear and dread.
Caught up in the vines arry.
Swing limb to limb they catch.. you die.
But , you’ll still travel, ear to the ground-
Listening for the gravel, hear all sorts of OTHER sounds.
Dirty dusty, round the bend, you’ve reached it once, you will again.
I know this place, this edge I have been, this time wont you take a swim?
This watering hole, showed me my sins-
I Smiled at them, we have made friends.
And each time I return, a bit more in my sack,
what I’ve gained means much more than anything I lack.
We catch up, have some laughs.. then off I go, put on my hat.
I will be back someday, I know the dusty way.
The gravel will still be there, waiting for my tread.
The waters, I’ll sit starring, me, myself, my view ahead..
Always, somewhere for me, they await my glory.
This place is built in stone.
Its face looks like my own.
This dusty road is home.