The wind blows away my cries as the sun singes my suspicions,
there is actually more than 9 to 5, more than taking a shower,
reading the paper, fighting the non believers in of a higher spirit,
in bumper to bumper traffic, to get to a job that's endless.
All this knowing you are not sincerely appreciated.
The wondrous sunset on this majestic mountaintop steals
my breath away. Out here the wind is music to the ears
of God's children on this blue sphere we call home.
A primeval forest teeming with life almost extinct by man's
better mousetrap invention. The eagle and hawk soar freely
ruling the sky of azure. The deer and the antelope run
free with the speed as if to become one with the father.
Multitudes of fish swim exploring unknown waters uncharted
by the outreaches of human technology into the wild'of nature.
The winds burn my lungs as do the toxic fumes my heart.
Yes there is a metal and concrete world not far from paradise,
possibly a black smoky haze will not infect the pristine skies
of forever. Trees burned wildflowers trampled by the ignorance
of mankind. Competition for the cloud cover of heaven
with silver birds of ingenuity, wind swept plains Indians
once roamed, the last of the human cries heard by no one. . .
Timothy Michael DiVito c 1995
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