Chasing winds, I have been flying a bit ahead of my porch.
Waiting for a truck to pick me up till heavens of white
And it stands there, since the time begun till today
Just rushing its way down fast, but never arriving through.
Waiting for it out the door,
Nights came and the houses chaned,
The old river, the old bird, changed to a new herd,
Cottons and bricks of heart,
Now dancing between the concretes and metals carts.
Changed is now the home,
Changed is now even the old lady of mine.
And still there is no truck to come my way,
Walked a bit closer to show it a flag,
Ran and rushed but the truck is still far.
So is now but my star,
The home and the love,
The dogs and the dove,
All belong now to a stream that never was.
Both the ways there is sand and lots of dirt,
And I am still here, awaiting the free bird.
Think I will leave the truck behind
Walk ahead with my little rhyme.
No meaning cursing a truck that
May never come, But no cursing at all won’t do.
Coz in deserts you need to burn a bit,
With less of water feel cramps, feel as a seat.
So walking, walking is for me.
No waiting, just a
star and my sea.
Let me go roll, and find the garden
That is there no more,
To find the next clue,
To know where must I head
But wait, wait I wish so no more.