I plant a tree to meditate
in the world of marvelous shadows.
The caves became bright,
still wondering where the fire came from
to keep you from the cold.
Police and thieves in the streets,
the fires in the Sun,
the air is much to thick
to breathe.
Lost my meditation
in the storms of greed.
Three little birds will get me back
to the ancient woods,
an oak is growing there for shelter
things will change.
when heart is open
I will be I again.
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