There are those,

Who thrive and grow,

In the hard and dry, …

Desired,

Predictable days,

Feel safe. …

For many years,

What I saw I believed,

Until I began to perceive, …

I like to lose myself,

In unknown cities,

Walking along streets, …

When doors appear,

That gently entice,

I have learned, …

In earlier times,

Studying history,

Was a bore. …

“How will in find the key,

To unlock her heart”,

I asked. …

Today,

I can no longer,

Climb a tree. …

It somehow feels,

Things from the past,

Last. …

The man sat in silence,

Gazing at the tree.

“If I were you, …

Traveling is a gift.

But it is returning home,

Where the garden grows, …

To be covered by growth,

So as not to be seen,

Left peacefully alone, …

Perhaps eyes,

Are liked closed doors,

Yet through which, …

An outsider,

In a foreign land,

Where I left, …

When I stare,

At those golden fields,

I’m carried back, …

Yesterday I pondered,

My life’s purpose.

Could I have done more, …

Different,

Yet from the same tree,

It is her, …

If I immersed myself,

In those fields of green,

Strewn with yellow flowers, …

He worked the land,

As I sat behind a desk,

And one day we met, …

Today’s world,

Teems with options,

And solutions galore. …