The Losing Of Innocence.

The path from childhood to adulthood.

Up there, somewhere up ahead.
Where the track enters the trees
Berries bigger than my thumb
Entwine the bushes. Squeeze
Them and the juices run
And drip like blood upon the tongue

Up ahead, not far now,
There's a quiet sleepy place
Where we can rest. The canopy
Of leaves combine to shade your face.
There the senses, running free,
Sing in peaceful harmony

Further on, we'll hear it soon,
The winsome chuckling of a stream,
Fills your head with fantasies
And everything's as if a dream
has taken over. Here a breeze
Teases whispers from the trees

Up there, somewhere up ahead,
Where the track exits the trees
And runs to all that is to come,
I feel a strange unease
As if, by just my moving on
On looking back, all will be gone.