Who Am I?

 (From The Woodsman’s Notebook)

I am the freedom who once flew high and free, now I am caged for all to see.

I am the freedom who once walked the land, now I am hunted by humans who just won’t understand.

I am the call of the howls late at night, to those of you with unforeseen sight, the disappearance of our right to be alive and to share with you all our might.

I am the cry in the wild, the tears in the stream; I am summer, fall, winter and spring.

I am the fish that swim the lake, now polluted with each breath I take.

I am the voice’s that are not understood, with the common ears you'd think were made of wood.

I am the wind and rain, which gave this land life, now just an ozone layer disappearing from sight.

I am the dream, which make babies cry, neither afraid nor scared, they just can't understand why

They are the only ones who understand our cries.

I am the freedom who once sailed high, now the old one, just let me close my eyes and let me . . .

What would you do?
(From the Woodsman’s Notebook)
 

What would you do if I should die?
What do you think about that? Would you cry? Would you sing? What good memory will my life bring? Was my life one to follow? Can you follow it with pride? Would it be remembered with love to share? Or would it be one where no one would care? From my life can anything be learned? Or was it one I didn’t earn? But in my passing I will say, I have found peace this very day. What would you do if I were to pass away?

                                                           

                                                        The Woodsman 9/11/02