It comes to me as days drift past
Perhaps one day time will stumble
Upon the legacy I have cast.
And my spirit still so humble.
Even when my stone has crumbled
In but a few leftover words
Spoken in a voice no longer heard..
I can but hope they live long after I
Have forged my path across the sky.
...maybe with the way the "leaders" of the world are behaving, behaving worse than school boy bully boys, the world will gain the lose of mankind. Whatever happens in the future just don't matter. Now is where we're at. So have fun fun fun in every day under the sun sun sun. xx
Myrna, I have no about that your wonderful words, your poems, your short stories, your words, will most definitely live on after you are unable to write or speak them. Yours are the words of love and survival.
The songs and art in this book are about our collective emergence after the pandemic and trauma of the last few years - comprised of 5 collections: World as Refuge, Where We Live, In Our Hands, Rhythms of Change and What We See & Sow.
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Ron
budd
Cheers,
Dan