By Linda K.

Copyright 1999


Like a new born child,
I lay.
Asleep- No...
In deep empty space- Yes.
The hands of my God and within,
The movements of the soul to win,
And I imitate...
And I imitate...
Darkness fell- a blessing,
A seekers home of rest.
A playground of Wisdom,
And a magic world,
My place to fest.
Silence- and my physical body starts to ache,
My world of reality leaves,
I sleep...
I sleep...
And I never wake.

My feet stood bare,
The wind played with my dreaded hair,
The world is mine- and to this I feel free.

A "tramp"/"bum"- my so-called name,
My so-called identity.
After all, society had chosen to exclude me.

And sometimes I asked myself, as I wondered:
"Who was I to speak?"
" What right did I have to choose?"

But as I walked down the crowded streets,
one thing I was sure:

Itís a state of mind,
A way of letting go...
Itís excepting ourselves and the true meaning of reality,
Only then can we grow.

My heart bled from within,
It was the fact of knowing that I couldnít win.

I could run for miles- and still be slow,
I could love the world- and his love would still show.

Trapped, forever, I will remain.
Until the truth comes out,
Then so shall this pain.

Up and up these spirits would float,
Gray and mystical...
A healing to my worries of the day.

It awakens my senses,
Captivating my vision of life...
A combat for the anger that would soon go away.

My peace of mind then lingers,
As free as the scent in the air.
Up and up these spirits would float...
Leaving me at rest and without a care.

I want to tell you I care,
I want to play with your hair,
I want you to know that you, too, can feel this free to do.

But itís hard to try to explain,
Itís hard to try to gain,
The knowledge that you, too, can feel this is true.
( This one goes out to all the people out there who have faced the cold
assholes in our society when trying to collect donations...)

Bustling- the street were waves,
The tide was infectious,
And with it came the sales...
"Oh yes, it was Christmas"

Pen and paper in my hands,
Ready for my purpose,
I walked- and walked.

"Excuse me miss", was my feeble try,
Another rejection and the people hurried by,
And as if personal, my heart felt a pain.

I walked- and walked...

And I swore to myself:
I would never be as insensitive again.

You amaze me...
You really do. Head high and still with a smile.

Though the world is a figure of sound,
And the rushed wind moves you around,
You still remain calm.
You still find your destination.

Maybe itís better that way.
Better to blind- see what you want to see.

You amaze me...
You really do. Your inner beauty knows what is really true.