back to the verandah

there is a new direction we must go

to reach the lowland where ancestors rest

following wind and sun towards the west

into those places we most want to know

complaining bitterly time moves too slow

for our desire to rush into the test

since youthful mind must always be the best

in figuring just what is à propos

now i recall the ship that seemed to move

hardly at all but kept pace with the sun

and my young heart wanted to flee its cage

still there were other things i had to prove

and other roads on which my feet would run

i did not know that was the golden age