Discover A New Perspective
What makes the birds sing?
There! In their song.
What makes trees grow?
There! It is all they know.
What makes a man love?
Making the world put on a show.
Under trees and stars I walk alone,
My midday companion,
the tricky crow.
But when all the air is cleared,
And no man feared,
The truth begins to show.
I wonder, I wonder If in the depths of our slumber, We ever dream to cease our ceaseless number. Perhaps our questions are naught but answers, Perhaps answers are naught but questions, Our pride is pr
I am scratched and itched, and old and young; I am the red greened apples, And love high-strung. There can be no words that pump as the heart does; Flesh and Fire, The forge of God's young.
I heard it before, Once long ago; Come and get me... The night grew young, And the dew was ripe; Come and get me... A voice not found is one that can always be heard; Come and get me...
