In Kansas one feels loved in nights and stranger on day light

The air is too cold and the roads spread like a bedsheet that falls on ground every morning

The trees are somewhat without life and dead

Christmas trees hanging around downtown Missouri

Homemade food way too delicious to digest

Silence of night too deep to sleep and dream

Awake and arise O child the sun is high this Sunday morning

I don’t know about you but I can say I am alive

I shall say no more having a friend that understands too much of you is not quite delightful

It takes you back to the first vision, an eye that sees your soul and declares

Worry no more I see you for who you are and consider something the way you are

A friend of mine shall you be until the time comes for our breaths to last

I am no stranger but a friend of a friend speaks the cold serene air of Kansas