Each man alive reaches one reframing time,
A chance to correct the compass of an unwilling mind,
Well, mine came to me one late October day
With my thoughts spiraling down like the wind dance that those oak leaves play:
A list for all my loved ones.
Well, I spent years imprisoned in a cynic’s hold,
With a pair of social tweezers and a microscope.
Until I came to a point that I could not divide,
And realized my grandest days were blurring by.
So I pulled my head from my private thundercloud,
Revived my mind, and stretched and took a look around.
My tired eyes could barely take the light,
Emanating from all the earth that’s good and right.