Days Of Future Past
I’m now on the West Coast for the first time. Feeling the inhale and exhale of the Pacific. The spray against my face, soaking my socks when I stumble too close, not changing my shoes for hours. Talking to people I’ve missed, and not realized how much, and meeting new ones which will add to the pang of leaving.
Collecting rocks. Smooth. Rounded. Jagged.
Remembering words. Singing them. Words I wrote missing the soars of another ocean. Being landlocked in mountainous obscurity. Cut off. Dry.
Now surrounded by green. And blue. Smells I know. Sounds that lull me to sleep at 3pm. Sitting, listening, learning, being.
Almost feels like home.
And I want to sit by the ocean
Just to spend some time in a lower state of mind.
And though vain I entertain the notion
That at sea level I’m closer to Your side
For without these mountains I’ve no place to hide.
Lord I need some air
Lord I need You near.
Lord I need You near,
Oh I need some air.
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