Some years the gravity is heavier
my lift is lost, my direction down
some years weigh on me more
stomach full of snakes, heart full of stones
some years the feet don’t move
sleep won’t let me go or come.
Nothing can be counted on
nothing keeps us quite as young
There are days, stretches of days
stretching into never-never
times when even stopping stops
and faith falls into the river
there are these times, they come and leave
when even angels stop believing.
Maybe you’ve been there
this song will make sense
sooner or later.
Once the flood of mud is over
after surviving the living-through
the push collapses and makes a space
for emptiness to become true
time pulverizes the temporary
the crushing same gives way to new.
Left behind in gold dust
straight ahead in sunlight
a la carte.
Some years when the sky clears
are painted with brush of anticipation
some mornings in those breathless times
are as pure and quiet as moon shine
some of those same afternoons
are full of that fear in the first kiss.
Rising blues falling blues
when will turning turn to
the unheard of?