no, oddysey [sic]
Turpentine and willfulness
Robins and terns, with etching sticks
We gliding by, whole as much in our time
No it’s not nothing, an epic, for which we are grown
For surviving with the beauty we hold
Alive, and breath, we made America take a better road
Do not cry, unless you like, it’s in our bones
The divining of a future we have yet to hold
It’s yours and mine, for making our time.
To sing and dance and forget, to write our names
Upon the earth, to be kind, so much the cosmos shift
That is the beauty in us.. onward till, where we all sit
Around and talk about nothing, to become ourselves
Again, as we have felt.
