Buttercups

I’ve become a simple soul,

The old ideas of what I need

I’ve left, in their tangled mess,

Down by the river

With the tangled reeds.

The old ideas of who I am

Begin to fade like mist

Or a flower left to drift

Towards the source where it began.

I’ve become a simple soul,

I eat out a wooden bowl

And buttercups are quite enough

To flood my heart with joy

And melt what seems apart

Back into the whole.

by Charlie Chamberlayne