I heard a calling once,
The woods, the hills, the simple life,
A small area to call my own.
A devoted hand fearlessly in mine,
A shared dream,
Creating words in the woods,
Stories born in the space between
The soil and the sky,
Living clean, without the nonsense of the lost human mind.
 
I heard a poem once,
A walk through nature by a heart so inclined,
Footprints left on the earthen soil,
Wiped cleaned by the whipping winds of time,
Still the words imprinted on the sweetest parchment,
Eternally mine to hold, to cherish,
To share to the ones who come calling.
My friends, alive among the trees.
 
I read a story once,
A man in love with the truth of Walden,
He and I have sipped from the same cup,
Bent our knee upon the same muddy shore,
We’ve written songs only the loon can hope to sing.
Together we have made our stand,
In union we have found the space of our truest love,
Our tears flow as we leave her far behind.
We never truly leave her at all.
 
I hear the calling now,
Recite the poem in my heart,
Tell the story in my soul,
I see the cabin where we live,
An orange flicker of the fire where we lay,
All we need around us, in us, between us,
A simplicity we’ve birthed in the honor on which we stand,
Two souls warm in the company we have found,
Even as the snows falls out there.
 
We kiss, forever, here.