Islands

Bet you're gonna rule the world one of these days Wake up in the early mornin' out in Santa Fe It's only been a year or so since you gone away But we don't seem to talk much like back in the day Bet you're gonna build yourselves a home Workin' young fingers to the bone Oh ya, me oh well, I'm doin' fine Write a lot of words these days, not a lot of time Spent a few days or so lost in the pines Cool water, swimming feet, fruit from the vine Truth is I think I found the one Smooth soul and a whole lotta fun Living by the water treats us well The sea has a whole lot to tell How have your poems fared in your desert landscape? Do you miss the eastern streams and the green pathways? Or did you trade them in for the dry wind and the high mountains? Restless feet have always been a word fountain Do you write a lot about climate change? I can't get it off my mind these days Trying to find a way to fit it on every page Feels like there's nothing else to say It's hard to find a friend like you in your early twenties I meet a lot of folks these days there sure are plenty But none of them feel the wind like you and I do Chasing dreams and saving streams a drink or two I hope that these words find you well When I'll see you again I can not tell But give a lot of love to the world my friend And I'll do the same on my end