The Rock
 
You are so heavy and all so sound
With your feet so rooted in the ground
You can’t leap over hills and streams
You won’t move from fancy dreams
 
The wanderer calls out your solid name
Forsaken voices for him to blame
He lost his way through his wayward spirit
The rock so sound no need to fear it
 
Come home young man I bid of you
Prodigal son come taste the stew
The rock, the tree, the roots, the home
Where dreams were planted before thee roam
 
Fantasy laughs at truth so somber
Narrow prisons you do remember
The spirit needs wings to fly forever
No resting place for thee so clever
 
Come home wayward dreams.  I am the rock

Featured in "Poet's Pen Magazine."

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