Driving by cornfields,

Reminds me of younger days,

Playing hide and seek, …

Obsolete patterns,

Now rarely seen,

On outdated relics, …

As I age,

It is the simple things,

That I understand and crave. …

Those memories,

Are now by the deep blue sea,

And the roads we travelled, …

Today I can clearly see,

Where this road leads.

Not because of the weather, …

When her pictures,

I cannot recall,

Or readily recognize, …

To be close,

And intertwined,

Yet separate and free, …

A butterfly,

Perched on a flower,

Gazed at the man, …

Our local farmers,

Daily work the land,

A profession, …

Holes,

Cracks,

And stains, …

Appearances,

Without context,

Can be misleading. …

Before I could discover,

The heart of my dreams,

I needed to find my own, …

Getting stuck,

In precarious positions,

Is part of the path, …

What exists around me,

Can be neatly organized.

And in time, …

Walls at times are adorned,

For celebrations,

Or a welcome home, …

To see life’s worries,

Or peaceful mountains,

Leaning against the sky. …

Clouds watched the sun,

Slowly descend.

Devoid of thoughts, …

There are many,

Who walk this world alone.

But those who find peace, …

In younger years,

I yearned for complexity,

In appearances, …

I only learned,

How to be free,

When I dared, …