for this lament-
I say to you, dream-
the open fields-
the rolling hills of summer wheat-
the shepherd and his flock, roams
the shepherd with his pen, writes
to define this world again
in kind words and thoughts
and show them the way-
once more.

notes… these words came to me as is… for once in my blabbermouth personality I think I will just leave them as is totally for other’s interpretation, I have mine, surely, I was the vessel, or vassal I suppose… so it matters not what I think, it matters what touches your soul or resonates in your time.