On the road to find out,
did you stop to lose your way
and play upon your fiddle
for the breaking of the day
In the midst of the confusion,
stepping back from the melee?
Was a merry song upon your lips
as you slipped softly away?
There on the wind,
the beginning of the world
Will you miss the grand production
of the play?
Beyond the map,
where the edge is bent and curled
lies the ramble bramble essence of today
Do you smell the pretty pansies
growing there along the quay
and dance a jig of pleasure
in the leisure of mid-day,
as the world around you fumbles,
tumbling onward, come what may?
Are you building dreams although it seems
your feet are made of clay?
On the road to find out,
where the songs of life still play,
do you listen to the gentle music,
learning more each day?
There on the breeze,
in the fragrance of the trees
Will you sense the world
is changed from yesterday?
Beyond the map,
you can grow just as you please,
find the ramble bramble essence of today
25 FEB 2003
For some reason, this morning thinking about Ian Anderson and Cat Stevens (did they ever collaborate?)
