There is a place to call home
A rusted decaying single chain swing
Grass tall and overlapping
I sit upon the seat of childhood
Memories wash upon like northern seas
Dreams of past times and tranquility
And feel the beast of anxiety crawling
Up my spine the shivers climb
Setting into my skull as if familiar
Then to observe from a pendulum view
Subtle variation bestowed upon white posts
Sudden relief in the sight of changing positions
Fluid is this life through child's eyes
I stop my motion to exchange maturity
What really is traded is my viscosity
Formability to molds or individualism
What connexion made to grant this final
A realization that depression is a longing
For change happens prior to fulfillment
Throughout ones self examined this need
Absolute greed for self and no other
Depression to grip leaves left no other
A disruption undone only through thought
The shift of the paradigm slowly allowed
All of this revealed by a swing
An observation of my past delight
And how it appears to be vacant
For normalicy is driven from me
Power and knowledge given in passing
Gives me the strength to be hopeful
Swaying gently with life's breeze
Being totally happy with each movement
Free to observe beauty in all things
All it takes is one step at a time
