I’d driven past the boundaries of
The world I daily dwelt on;
Beneath a canopy of trees
The worries and frustrations had
Been bowing my head daily;
But now within the shadows of
A glade, a kind of forest road,
As green as Jackson’s Hobbiton —
And cool like autumn
I slowed down to a turtle’s pace,
And counted every sunbeam through,
And breathed the open window air
And saw that things would be
Okay enough
To share is human:
