(about 1996)
We roam the earth- daily
going about those things
we are scheduled,
or have planned
to do.
We write down our business,
our desires,
even that which we despise,
except it's our duty.
And yet, which one
does not yearn
for even but a small moment
to be still?
And listen.,
feeling for that inner peace
which without,
we roamers become weary;
and most become blind,
so blind.
They can't see the same longing
in our eyes, my eyes;
I who ask, no, beg of you
to let me work God's work,
or let me rest!
