If the sky was a treasure chest
I’d know where to go
To find the splendid treasure
Hidden from those unaware.
X marks the spot
Way high up in the air
But the treasure is what’s below
And realizing it’s there.
Blessed are we, to live on this island
In all the seasons.
I was warned “it gets sad and lonely,”
In the winter days, when summer is a distant haze.
“It’s your first winter? Oh jeez,”
they’d say, eyes big in mocking disbelief.
But lonely means you don’t like to be alone.
Out there, on the beach, with sky, the waves, the sea,
I didn’t feel so alone, being with just me.
X marks the spot.
Way high up in the air.
To tell me I’m right, in being right here.