I don’t dream Of kingdoms Or crowns Made out of gold I don’t care Who wins tomorrow If I can watch The creek run cold I don’t need Another skyline Or another Neon night Give me rain On weathered timber And a window Full of light Everybody’s Running somewhere Like they’re late For being alive Trading years For bigger numbers While forgetting How to arrive I want dirt Beneath my fingernails The smell Of split oak A kettle singing From the kitchen More silence Than smoke Leave the hurry To somebody else I’ve carried enough Of the world I want to live A hobbit life Where the measure Of a day Is whether The tomatoes ripened And the bluebirds Came to stay Where supper Means the table’s full Where home Is something built From love and community I want to live A hobbit life Before this one Runs away Know my neighbors By their laughter Not the numbers On their doors Grow enough To share with strangers Never asking Who it’s for Fix the handle On the shovel Patch the fence Instead of buying new Learn the names Of every season Instead of chasing Something new Leave the hurry To somebody else I’ve carried enough Of the world I want to live A hobbit life Where the measure Of a day Is whether The tomatoes ripened And the bluebirds Came to stay Where supper Means the table’s full Where home Is something built From love and craftsmanship I want to live A hobbit life Before this one Runs away Maybe wealth Was never meant To fit inside A wallet Maybe peace Is hearing rain Without checking The forecast Maybe freedom Is finally owning Enough… That nothing Owns you back SO GIVE ME… BREAKFAST! SECOND BREAKFAST! ELEVENSES! LUNCHEON! AFTERNOON TEA! DINNER! SUPPER! I want to live A hobbit life Wake with sunlight On the floor Just cold spring water Then the morning Through the door Walk the woods Until my shadow Forgets What stress became Come home With mud between my toes And no one Calling my name I want to live A hobbit life
