In the pines and the wines, of green trees and crimson dusk

Colors came and colors went, as the days passed by in haste

Taken for granted sometimes, through the good times and the strife...

And now you stand – pondering your life.

And looking behind you, so much has transpired from here to there and back...

Following dreams like drifting sand, many changes to your plans

Took you often like the wind

And now searching within

You look back on a blur, and a windy whirring

Of time and chance and motion, that brought you where you are today.

And things and dreams, almost never turn out as expected

Like tiny boxes tipped over, spilling things you’ve collected