Bucolic Splendor

Bucolic Splendor

© 2008 Bryce Black


Ya know it ain’t no crime
to stop and smell the roses
but who has got the time
with these grindstones to our noses
I can’t take one more day
of the all-encroaching mega-mall
I got to find a way
to heed a different call

(I need…)

Bucolic splendor
it ain’t legal tender
but like Jesus said
not by bread alone
by God’s every word
which I’ve often heard
through the birds
and the trees
and the stones]

Do I dare turn my back
on the hustle and the strife?
What is it that I lack?
Is it money or my life?
I long to plant my roots
somewhere deep down in the earth
so I can taste the fruits
of work a life is worth

Gimme… [Chorus]

We moved back to the land
built a house and raised some kids
did everything by hand
lived unplugged from the grid
worked our fingers to the bone

grubbed a living from the dirt

Still slaves to what we own

even now it could not hurt

to stop and look around

and remember what we’ve found…