I love my city, but you don’t give me everything I need.
The tree roots don’t grow deep and and any rivers that once cut through have been sucked dry.
Though you normally bring me life, tomorrow I must leave to find something deeper.
Rocks created at the birth of this earth, cut through by wind and water will heal my soul.
Fish who know that their purpose is just to swim, will guide me back to my own purpose.
Tomorrow, I begin again.