Oct 23, 2019

I could go east, I could go west

few things sure of at present  . . . . . . . Jesus wasn't crucified for acting like  `polite vicar in a pair of socks and sandals,`                                           As if really have choice about present politics . . . . .                          I too am lost, I feel double-crossed
          I'm sick of what's wrong and                what's right
Air turned cold
Suppose we all need home
Sometimes  wander on alone
Stood alone on a mountain top
`Starin' out at the Great Divide
I could go east, I could go west
It was all up to me to decide
Just then I saw a young hawk flyin'
And my soul began to rise
And pretty soonMy heart was singing'


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But had this thing, can only call hope. Hope or Faith ?

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. . . she got a postcard in the mail
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The simple words he wrote her
Said he loved her
How he'd hold her if his arms would reach
Wish you were here, wish you could see this place
Wish you were near,Wish I could touch your face
The weather's nice, it's paradise
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They say, "Hello, "
I miss you so, wish you were here"
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