The Tendril

Now that 40 acres have been tilled
Promises of many unfulfilled
Bodies of my own futures
Fill the mausoleum that I've built
Past and present tense keep dwelling
On a tendril of wood colour
I hope to see unfailing
What's next?

Dearest Tendril
Guide me into tomorrow

Prepping for the season's silver hat
Trying not to lose the common thread
Before inevitably
I am going to rest my weary head
Vines are twisting, vines are turning
Shifts and changes so concerning
It took a lifetime learning
I'll last

Dearest Tendril
Guide me into tomorrow

Dearest Tendril
Guide me into tomorrow