Walking through ancient timber
Roaring silence uplifts my soul
Finding trees as big as countries 
The size of a circus tent at the bole
Biting the wind in a Rogallo sail,
Lifting, then gliding, then holding my breath
Floating in deafening silence
The ground slips by underneath
I’ve been filling up my bucket list
Making sure at my demise
There’s nothing but good memories
To flash before my eyes
Hiking out on the gunwale
Wind sign on the crawl
Knowing I have to get sail in
Before I’m hit by the squall
Flying over the divide in a chopper
Snowfields bright in the sun
Bach playing on the headphones
Surveying on snowshoes is fun

I’ve seen the Sunlight Basin in sunlight
The Rockies in the snow
The deep blue of a hole in the Caribbean
Where the Parrotfish grow
I haven’t got a lot to do
My bucket list is almost done
I’d like to fly front cabin on an A 380
With a bedroom and a shower to London
I’ve been filling up my bucket list
Making sure at my demise
There’s nothing but good memories

To flash before my eyes