Leaves of Grass

The Leaves of Grass, is in man's desires long,
Before he gains consciousness of what it is;
It is earth´s fire and flowing tears, each song,
Each one sought in application and wish;
The road he walks and stones he stumbles on,
All search he does in confront and in trust;
For everything he reaches and has done,
And likewise things in effort he has lost.

Leaves of Grass, is not mere a leaf in book,
But more experience of all search combined,
And faith you have to carry them on through.
All the years it gave more days it then took,
Of conclusions to reach and comfort to find,
Gave us what we are - the making of you.

(Dedicated to Walt Whitman 1819-1892)

Traveling-Man (Song in Real Audio)