The sun is setting full behind the trees
Its rays like arms that reach up in the sky
Then slowly start to fade out by degrees
As crickets sing an evening lullaby
With frogs that you can also hear nearby
And wind and cars to finish the refrain
So put down everything that's gone awry
Let go of all your sorrows and your pain
Release the thoughts that bind you to the breeze
Hold on with all your heart to times like these
In freedom’s time, he traveled on his own,
And found himself in lands, and under skies
So large, to fill them he knew he had grown —
The food that serves to feed and appetize,
The truth you were not taught, but realize.
In days of silence, so much not to say:
The talker walks, the thinker often flies.
So many fears he once had to allay
Just set aside. Connection in the day
And coming home by being called away.
The world is what it is, and so we run
From highways, streets, and lanes to city queues;
We know we cannot end what we’ve begun,
But while the time is here, we still can choose
To light a fire, or, perhaps, diffuse
A situation set to go awry —
Where none can win then everyone will lose.
For beauty’s more in action than in eye,
Like kindness, which is rarely overdone,
Some understanding, surely, must beat none.
The only quietude he’d ever known
Was throwing papers in the morning dark;
As there, in dawning silence he, alone,
Would pedal past the edges of the park.
Each paper that he’d throw would, in an arc,
Land gracefully upon a greening lawn.
The contrast to his home life was so stark,
Where all was chaos: angry, woebegone –
A home that hatred set its face upon;
But which he could escape when came the dawn
