I remember the wind chimes on Euclid Heights Boulevard
The place I fell in love in and equally fell out of life in
I was dreaming, dreaming, dreaming
Watch the drying cement they called -
I had not noticed them working
I was so absorbed in being - living the dream
Funny really, how it barely seemed I loved anything enough to stay
I was running, running, running
Perhaps now I have come to a stop I am free to love things more
An open window, a fresh sheet of paper - a tin of coloured pencils
They all make me smile - feel as if I am moving - not wandering
Perhaps I am enjoying my days a little more
Leaving my own footprints on the ground -
Neither follower or followed
I take a sip of tea on a new morning -
Perhaps this is what I love - this moment, this place inside
A sense of distance from what was
And a clear head to make my own path.
