Walking in a land of mountains
one could loose one’s self.

Sitting,
listening to the trickle of a stream calling me away.

Calls of birds,
so many birds singing out.

Resting in gaps between sounds.
Refreshing as the gaps between days,
nights,
each one following in it’s turn.

Time passes as the Earth spins

Waiting in peace in this land of mountains,
patience settles,
it will rain in time,
clouds await::
*        I used this picture as it was on this rock I wrote the original poem and a bunch of
songs. It was called breakfast rock for it was where I took my breakfasts at that time. Wheal
Frost was an old copper mine which was located half way up the mountain in the
background. I was 23 years old at the time.
Garsong.com
Waiting Realised (Revisited) - Gar Song (30/11/1974)(Slightly altered 6/9/2006)