I’d rather be a changeling child
Then one without a soul.
For if I can not walk the wilds
As I watch for the rabbits hole
I would find myself a caged bird
Whose wings are bound by bonds
That strain endlessly to be heard
As I look for that magic wand.
The way to be free from here
To nature shall I return.
The deep chill of this fear
Keeps me from the learned
Who only prattle on about their books
The science of their pondering’s
When the wind spills more answers
Than the water has waves wandering.
The forest is my home.
The softness of its loam
Is where I sow
The breath of life
And my own
For there are others
Who can never be a city born
Or they will live their lives forlorn.