In the wilderness, I bid I stay,
and abide to the day that my hairs turn gray.
Everyone is blessed with the gift of perspective,
I’m blessed, like many, to have one that’s reflective.
No longer I crave the distractions and noise,
good luck to the Joneses and to hell with their toys.
Live a whole lifetime and never accomplish a thing,
clock in and clock out for the cars, clothes, and bling.
Whether a slave to your demons or a servant to God,
keep your shares, likes, and re-tweets; I’ll take a smile and a nod.
One foot in the new world and one stuck in the old,
I didn’t come for the fishing, I came for the cold.
I long for a campfire tucked under a snowbank,
and a hot cup of coffee that needs to be drank.
So when the day finally comes, the hour of death,
the wilderness I hope is who hears my last breath.