O' sweet scent of lilac, how I miss you so.
Simple streets adorned with memories of times past.
Great Huron separates the centuries.
Can its spirit survive?
Or will capitalism emerge?
There is a more simple side to the North.
No busy pavement, no intruders, only water.
Its purity inspires the wanderer. Wandering.
Sweet aroma, sweet sound, sweet senses.
This I covet, for my absence has been too long.
I too am guilty for want, for desire, for pleasure,
For simplicity... Simplifying.
Society lacks solitude and the desire for solitude.
Forever connected to the ever seeing eye.
Why deny yourself of privacy?
Why desire fame? Why fortune?
Simplicity still exists, only hidden beneath a shroud.
The public hides it in fear of not knowing.
Why must they know my secrets? My desires? My life?
What then is freedom?
My being, segregated into earnings and expenses?
Can my book not remain closed?
Certainly they have their reasons...
Hidden somewhere within 10,000 pages growing.
I long for the sweet scent of lilac,
Not for today, but for the representation of today.
For it is here I remain uncounted, unearned.
For it is here I remain unseen, unbothered.
For it is here I may experience life. Glory.
For it is here I can find solitude.
My body faces North, South, East, and West!
For it is my experience, my life, my glory!