It still exists,
you know,
that old,
familiar place.
It’ still quiet there.
The whole world
has kept away.
There’s money to be made
in keeping our minds
in the everyday,
forgetting
that peace and quiet
used to be commonplace.
Just off the road you know,
there are no signs
showing you where to go.
It’s not found on-line.
You might get directions,
they might be right,
they might be wrong.
You might just figure it out
if you listen to the song.
Tucked away
in the hills,
in the woods,
in the past.
Old growth,
old stone,
the only things that last.
People these days
watch a clock
hoping it’s as fast,
as they car,
or their wifi connection,
as their life get passed.
I can still hear the water
of the nearby creek.
I can still smell the wood,
fresh split every week.
I can smell the cooking
and the fire on which it was made.
I remember a time
when we weren’t so afraid.
We can go there,
you know.
That place still exists.
As my time goes by
I find it harder to resist.
Watch the world divide
where it used to multiply.
I know a place
that’s just mountains
and clear, blue sky.
It’s still there,
you know,
right where we left it.
The only way it gets lost,
is if we forget it.
HG – 2022
