The long dirt roads lead away to solitude, and quiet still,
With sky high trees & rolling hills,
Not a single soul in sight,
Under the large green boughs at night,
With only the stars above to light
Down the darkened path the coyote calls
Bare skin on the forest floor.
Only crumbled walls of stone remain,
Where I rest under the bright sunshine,
Wild thyme damp from the summer rains,
This is the place I'm meant to stay.
The leaves are wet from the cooling stream,
The cracking of sticks under my feet,
Upon the cold wet rock I lay,
With the dappled sunshine on my face.
Its here I charge my soul yet still,
His beckoning warmth stirs my will.
Hot embers upon me glow,
Not wanting to escape his rugged hold.
This sanctity which revives my mind,
Eventually I'll leave behind.