Every word is a way,
To the unsought moods of pleasure;
Meet the new coming day,
That fills the earth with more treasure.
Bring the gift and joy,
With every inmost care;
There are some moods to destroy,
Each coming up affair.
My thoughts are with the traffic,
The roads that move in time;
All the poisoning words acidic,
That climb up like a begrime.
The horizon deep and sky,
That falls from mood to mood;
All thoughts that can not die,
For they’re everywhere bestrewed.
The road and its destination,
The place that goes to anywhere;
Fickles of your inspirations,
Going from moments here and there.
Thoughts that don’t get through,
For they have been all over;
And it’s all up to me and you,
To find that certain random rover.
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