You and I are both far from home
And often I feel so alone,
Forlorn, forsaken, displaced as though
There is nowhere I cannot go,
But that one place, dearest tree
Where my heart most yearns to be. 
The curves and crevices of the coast
Call to me like a haunting ghost,
In cool thin air the smell of pine
Recalls me to a place in time
Where I stood facing Yosemite’s Dome,
And there I felt, was truly home.
Or sitting by the little creek
On smooth rock, warm from the summer heat,
Or swimming in the gold-flecked lake
Where we ended by mistake,
Or watching day break with the desert sun
And climbing rocks, and having fun.
Yes you and I are far from home
But while one day I will turn and go,
You must stay and guide the way
For others who have gone astray,
And whisper those few secret words
That once you gave, and once I heard.


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