This could’ve well been Uncle Walt

The first thing I ever heard was a wandering man telling his story
It was you, the grass under my bare feet
The campfire in the dead of the night
The heavenly black of sky and sea

It was us
Roaming the rainy roads, combing the gilded beaches
Waking up to a new gallery of wonders every morn
Bathing in places no-one`s seen before
Shipwrecked on some matt-painted island
Clad in nothing but the surf – beauty`s finest robe

Beyond all mortality we are, swinging in the breath of nature
In early air of the dawn of life
A sight to silence the heavens

I want to travel where life travels, following its permanent lead
Where the air tastes like no music
Where grass smells like fresh-born Eden
I would pass no man, no stranger, no tragedy or rapture
I would bathe in a world of sensation
Love, Goodness, and Simplicity

Quite beautiful.


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Filed under Letterlove, Musiclove, Poetrylove

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