It's very easy, I've found

to become lost in the sound

the bustle of life which is always around

the booming conditions in which I have drowned

But when I sit still, without moving a muscle

when I pay no attention to all that does bustle

when I separate myself from the world that shaped me

that, my friend, THAT is when I am set free.

There is no other time in which I understand

the sound of life, so glorious and grand

the knowledge that Earth, so scarred and hurt

is far, far more than a just pile of dirt.

She breathes and sings her gentle song

for listeners, anyone, to sing along.

Because I have immersed myself in what I thought to be living

that cold concrete towers had a heart that was beating,

I have become uncomfortable with the peaceful feeling

of stillness and silence, short of her singing.

For what am I without my busy way of life?

what would I do without my troubles and strife?

I have yet to hear her answer, that I know

all I can do is wait, and listen to her song ebb and flow.