I come from the land of self-righteousness & credulity.
I come from the land of the free to believe the air is made of molasses.
But - you know? I don't come from this land.
I mean, yes, I was born here.
I still live here.
The minerals swirling in my blood
were leeched from the soil,
sipped from its waters.
I live in the land of multiple wars & rumors of war.
I live in the land of fear & anger.
I live in the flickering scream
and the distant explosion.
I live here. I choose to be here.
But - you know? There's days,
special days like this
when purple weeds disgrace the yellowed grass;
when rain clouds haunt clear blue skies;
when the street is empty:
I see another land,
the land where I belong.
I dwell in light where the land is dark.
I dwell in sheltering trees where the land is barren.
I dwell in peace where all are fighting.
I want to live where the heart dances with the mind.
That's where I want to belong.