The Resting Place

I have come to my resting place.
Where the air is fresh
and the wind is cool
Where the rocks are white
and the sands are fine
Where the trees are dense
and the land is lush
and the heavens and stars
refresh your soul at night.
I will remove the ropes
and untie the boat.
I have come to my resting place.

I have come to my resting place.
Where the birds fly free
and the fishes swim deep
Where horses run wild
and foxes go tame
Where sheep cry silently
and crickets do not hum
and the water and the ocean
gently lap at your feet while you sleep.
I will gather the wool
and whisper the prayer of the wild.
I have come to my resting place.

I have come to my resting place.
I have spent my whole life
searching for a place to die
Where sunset shall give way
to a beautiful morn
and its brilliant streaks
reflecting in the horizon
I will go in the wind
and set up the sail
I will fly in the sky
and soar with the birds
I have come to my resting place.
I shall not die in vain.

I have come to my resting place.
Where the wind is now picking up
and the waves are starting to build
Where the crickets are now humming
and the sheep starting to weep
I can hear the fox howl
as the sail catches wind
and my boat starts to move.
There, these prayers of the wild
will not be forgotten.
I have come to my resting place.

So now, I shall be on my way.

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