WHY IS IT WHEN I'M WALKING?

WHY IS IT WHEN I’M WALKING?

Why is it when I’m walking, things all seem so clear,
In the early morning, a sparkling atmosphere.
Alone with my thoughts in the quiet of the dawn
With only just the stray night creatures
As companions on the misty lawn.

Thoughts of leaving this life behind, fragmented thoughts of suicide
Are banished by gazing at these beautiful stars.
And if only for a mile or two,
I escape the awful torture of my private bell jar.

Why is it when I’m walking there seems nothing left to lose?
I am smack within the moment under skies so sacred black.
And life or death is mine to choose, forever with no looking back.

I can feel the Great Spirit, bigger than me, bigger than you,
As its contractions narrow and it pushes hard, giving birth to a day so new.
Painting a gorgeous sunrise across the vast horizon,
A spectrum of pink and purple and orange,
A new day sparkling bright with promise and with pardon.

Pardon for all that I am not, pardon for all I have left undone.
Pardon for my ingratitude, pardon for my selfishness,
My eagerness to end it all, pity for the man who holds the gun,
Pointing straight towards his temple, all the lost and homeless ones.

Why is it when I’m walking I would never let you down
Or be careless with this life of mine as long as you’re around?
Alone with my thoughts in the quiet of this graceful dawn,
Just for today I will choose to live and to bravely soldier on.

-Bruce Potts
Copyright 2008
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED