Because I Am Me

But the words they do escape me,
As swiftly as any deer,
Watching me from afar,
But fleeing when I come near.

Listen to the lapping river,
And tell me what you hear.
It whispers of times now gone,
And memories we hold dear.

A cricket sings its fiddled song,
From somewhere by a tree.
A towering, majestic oak,
Standing guard, a woody sentry.

It watches as waters pass,
Off to different lands.
Oh that it would tell me.
The things that only it can.

Would that it would tell me,
Everything thing that it has known.
About the moonlit skies,
And the winds that have once blown.

Would that trees could draw.
Oh the things that tree would show.
Painting a picture of an ancient world,
A world I will never know.

I look up through its branches,
Up into the stars,
I wonder what it is like.
In those worlds, so unlike ours.

I hear the river softly singing,
Tapping out its beat.
I feel like I should be going,
Drifting off to sleep.

But sitting in the hammock,
By the river late that night.
I thought about the future,
How I knew it would be alright.

Some where off in the woods,
Up sitting in a tree,
I heard an owl hoot,
Questioning,
Like me.

The wind was warm,
The world was soft.
It was just the river and me.
Nowhere to go,
Nothing to do,
No one I had to see.

The stars played off the water,
Like spotlights off of glass.
And the bright full moon,
Lent a silver hue,
To the dew sodden night grass.

All about was quiet.
No where could I see,
Another sign of life,
It was just the river and me.

I listened to it run,
Its watery fingers over stones.
A soft relaxing splashing,
This place seems like home.

The branches of the trees above,
Stretched out and intertwined.
Making me a roof,
Of silvery leaves and vines.

Again the warm breeze blew,
Barely, caressing my face.
Reminding me of her touch,
In that now, far off place.

I could smell the scent of flowers,
And the just freshly cut grass.
This is what I needed,
I tend to forget how to relax.

Sitting now upon my bed,
I think back on that night.
All these images clear my head,
And remind me it is alright.

Sometimes I think I would rather be dead,
Than keeping up this fight,
But an image of stars forms in my head,
Reminding me of that night.

Sleeping in a hammock,
As the stars take me on journeys out beyond sight.
Listening to the water,
And the owls late that night.

There was no then or now,
Like there was no need for stress or fear.
I was simply happy, to just sit,
To sit and just be here.

Listening to the river as it softly sang to me.
Never passing judgment or telling me what to be.
Just feeling the warm touch of the wind,
As it gently caressed me.
It was not a commitment,
It just wanted to hold, and then be held, by me.

Oh how I remember that night beneath the stars,
Sitting by the river, away from all my scars.
Lying in a hammock, taking in all I could see,
And simply being happy, just because I am me.

--This poem is about remembering that no matter what happens in life the world will go on. You can never let it go to your head, every now and then you have to let it out and just relax. This is a poem about remembering it is ok to be alive. Please let me know what you think.