Torn

I am almost always constantly torn

Between leather and brass

And falling water

I'm half gasoline and matches

Half cut grass and wet leaves

I am one part skyscraper, one part mountain

And all parts daydreams

Don't make me choose between

Glass, concrete, and steam,

And bare feet and flyaways.

I close my eyes and I can see

Rolling hills of green

A simple life for simple people

Longing for nothing, knowing what's yours

Farming and gardening

Walking and reading

Smoking and eating

And savoring the simple things

But the world is so loud

And the streets full of crowds

I open my eyes to oil and smoke

Wheels grind, lights blind

And street lamps outshine the shooting stars

So I close my eyes again

And imagine a tree by a babbling stream

The air is clear and clean

Fields of forest green

And a sleepy bed of leaves

And at last, my god

I can breathe