© 2013 by Christopher Clymer Kurtz
as inspired by Noemi Clymer Kurtz and Ecclesiastes
Clouds blow southward, then they turn north.
Round and round its circuits goes the wind.
Same old logic, lessons that I thought I'd learned,
one more sin of knowing anything.
So many babies are born
and even a heartbeat for me.
Grab a suitcase; pack it lightly.
We’re heading for the hills,
for tomorrow isn’t waiting for today.
Flaming bridges, clouds of ashes,
demons left behind in burning sand.
All the rivers stream to oceans,
to the seas that never will be filled.
Punch the time clock or put the boss out.
This race is for both the swift and the slow.
I’ve got my portion, I’ve got my notions,
and just one chance to free my soul.