Photograph taken by Theresa F. Koch

Well there is your photo, where are you?
I see your face but who are you now?
Somewhere inside between the pale skin
I bet your memory lies in wait, just sitting

My face has taken on many forms since then
But I am still wearing freckles and barefoot
I still love to sit in the sun but now it rots my skin
I love to smell the forest and just hear the wind

Did you let earth and man destroy your mind?
Imagination is all we have that’s ours let it run
Do you still sit in the woods? Do you draw?
Writing purifies the soul cleanse it daily, I do

Why have you chosen to hide from life?
This is your only chance to experience it
Good or bad we learn and then grow clear
Later we’ll analyze, this isn’t a dress rehearsal

So the spirits say live look about breath in
Ignore the warped all around they are lost
You still have time to feel and create beauty
Don’t waste your body it has the gift of touch

Later you will look about at the blind wondering
Their self felt veil leaves them from seeing all
Open up now while sitting in the skin and expand
After its dust again you will wish you had lived