Fleeing With the Wind
Fleeing with the wind, once again escape,
finding deep comfort in the big, burly machine,
I leave behind a dead past
Tears, once swept away by flowing wind,
are behind me, too here,
now, there is only me
there is only my cycle:
the world flows past my here and now
and I am all I want to be
Ahead in the mists of time,
riding the black and white ribbons
of the future,
guarding me against the high side somewhere
there, a companion for me,
somewhere, another cycle
But for now
my machine controls the world
and brings the countryside to me
at my bidding
as on I ride,
seeking to keep what I have
and seeking that future
which will let me be me
--For DKB