Here's a little wry humor about a current ailment you may recognize.
It's called "where-to-go-vertigo", can't find a space,
quiet and peaceful and staying in place.
The highway's a stream of deep irritation.
The city's a school for learning impatience.
The pace we live every day allows no rest on the way.
"Where-to-go-vertigo" spins in the head,
when we'd rather have quiet time up there instead.
It's clutter and stutter in wild combination.
There's noise and confusion in all recreation.
Just keep on dancing, and smile !
There's no place to rest for awhile !
At the shore, the sea still moves in place,
with measured rhythm, and steady pace,
but the bathers who come to the sea and the sand,
are refugees from a nerve-jangled land !
"Where-to-go-vertigo" moves us around,
from home to highway, through country and town.
We wrestle with phantoms of rough aggravations,
that plunder the mind, and stir up the nations,
with protests, confusions, and wars,
that we plan to export to the stars !
You just have to wonder when it will change,
and an easier pace will not be thought strange.
Surely someone will figure there's also a reason,
for time-out to spend a recovering season,
shake off the clatter, ease into slow,
cruising the Road without vertigo !
Flowing along, like a bird in a breeze,
or quietly standing, like tall forest trees,
or lying in hammock, at rest in the shade,
watching the clouds on parade,
free time to enter the quiet at center,
with no sin in no-place-to-go,
and no signs of old vertigo !
( © 1997-"Future Folk" Music-Betty Curtis )