I am the tree that is standing in the forest
I am the wind that can turn the leaves the surest
and I am the heather on the hill... that the sparrow watches blue in the sky turning red...  all from Maine to Natchez I am...

I am the longing that is held in a whisper
I am the chime on the hall clock come remember
and I am the needle on the phono that sounds the song thru an open window little children there to sing along I am...

you are the blue in the robins egg I found
you are the northern lights on a southbound world spinning ‘round at the speed of sound....

I am the thread in the hem printed pattern
summer dress for a walk oh dare I say that flatters
And I am the rushes in the water where the sun drapes and lingers 'til you lie there your toes there just inside my lake I am...
 
I am the chill that will brush your breast and hold you and in your ear the more you hear the little bird that told you and I am the page in a book that you fold and test words only words I am these nothing more or less I am.... 

I am the breath upon your skin, you are the feather on the wind, I am the I am the bell upon the wheel, you are the quiet silent still, I am, you are, I am ... you

I saw sorrow and I saw kindness
I saw seeing and I saw blindness    
and I saw the prayer in the hands of the printer
rolling over the words fractured and splintered

cryin' see me see me I am humble
it's not easy ragged fall and stumble
please be please be it's a long long time for one so
taken serious practiced and delirious
I am seeing what it is that's near to us
hold on hold on I am letting go.....
                                                               
a tiny red bird painted in a picture
in a store front long forgotten
it saw mercy through the window pain with gravity
but no one saw its window pain least of all those who see

crying free me I long to be etheral
on a child's wall when the sun breaks dressed material in the minds eye of the child somehow quizzical rise above the physical just below the mystical industry is fine but it's not ritual

Pretended I saw you in a stranger, thought i felt your hand in mine, swore I heard you on the train but it was just my lonesome mind.

Now I know you’re always with me, least I tell myself sometime. I will love you forever even though we said goodbye.

Now in August there’s a shower, meteors in the southern sky, called the tears of old St. Lawrence... if you’re quiet you can hear him crying.

How long is too long? How long is too long to be missing you?

here’s a story...with a whole lotta words
in between the words, there’s a window
take this story, it will comfort you
here’s a story, pass it on, pass it on, pass it on, pass it on , pass it on when you’re through

here’s a blanket...no need to thank it
it was worn on an army of shoulders, just like yours take this blanket, it will embrace you
here’s a blanket, pass it on, pass it on, pass it on, pass it on , pass it on when you’re through

here’s a picture...with a landscape to lie in
where the sun is warm and the sky is blue
take this picture, keep it with you here’s a picture, pass it on, pass it on, pass it on, pass it on , pass it on when you’re through

far away and long ago, i made a picture, let it go... it’s flown away from memory, but in my heart, it’s all i see

here’s a whisper...and a digeridoo
with every breath, the wind finds its muse
take this whisper, sing the whole song
here’s a whisper, pass it on, pass it on, pass it on, pass it on , pass it on when you’re through

and here’s a stone, to carry the weight of your world put it in your pocket, it’ll see you through
take this stone, it will forgive you here’s a stone, pass it on, pass it on, pass it on, pass it on , pass it on when you’re through

awake awake it's all in a dream
not without sorrow... not without scheme
and when you tell me miss not a word
there's no right no wrong
your heart your heart put it all on a string
not to get tied up... not to be coy
this could be easy if you would just come here
all in a song and I will sing, yea I will sing yes I will sing.... along
This might be alright  on the horizon oh delight
a tree full of flowers, off in the distant when you were young far far beyond this place
oh but love she's fair and chaste this could be easy if you would just come here all in a song
When you're walk walkin' trippin' on a melody ....
(there is nothing else that we can to do... no one else could ever sing like you)
And when you're fall fallin' cause the tempo is 2 over 3....
and all the bird birdies are chirpin' counterpointedly
(twiggy little birds ravens on you head nuthatch words that a songbird said)
you would have come here all in a song
you would have come here all in a song
yes I would sing.... along

Ladies and Gents may I have your attention
Here in the center ring, life's worth a mention
a balancing act sure to confound and stifle
a pair of illusions, with throwing knives and rifles
you're young at the circus merry full of pride
doing tricks on the back of a horse
when you don't know how to ride...

Head over heels, the barker calls to the clown
when you're caught in the net I'll untangle you down life isn't perfect, it's the unwritten deal
when you're fallin, when you're fallin, when you're fallin head over heels...

Gentlemen I implore you don't take this for granted the fire on the burning hoop is the as the lantern the illusion is simple but guaranteed to baffle hang on to your tickets in the end there's a raffle comes the juggler with a mission like a story every man's in and it's required reading before you're shot from the cannon

To now I've been doggy but the last word's for the ladies the trapeze's been wound up tighter than  Hades you look for escape but the high wire's down
you're always beating up yourself, but I blame it on the clown I loved you the first time I saw you, in your cotton candy rain cast and midway slippers, tilt-a-whirl and rainbows ....

A flower had a sad story and got the urge to write. She put down the plain and the gorey details of her seasonal life. And all the garden was a buzz, and no one looked at her the same way again.

Say my name, say my name outloud dear. Say my name, say my name to prove that I’m still here.

So if a bird is born in a twiggy circle nest, with no left foot or no right, does that little bird have to fly around all his live-long life? All his live-long life, all his live-long life.

Maybe in a day, maybe in a moment, any second now, I will believe. Maybe in a day, maybe in a moment, any second now, I will be free.

The air collects it all; lost feathers as they fall, the letters of our names. They’re soaked up in the clouds, brought over to that flower and then she waits for rain. And then she waits for rain. And then she waits for rain.

Maybe in a day, maybe in a moment, any second now, I will believe. Maybe in a day, maybe in a moment, any second now, I will be free.

white clouds high, end of may shadows drift in shades of gray where watercolored flowers, parts the way   on a good day, so they say ....

i wanna ride to the end of the road
in a garden painted by the red red rose
on a clunky old bike and a lightened load...leona

flying over Ohio where the red-winged bird and the milkweed blow songs are sown with threads of home, Ohio....

i wanna dream in my own back yard
with the dogs barkin’ at the passing cars
and all the kids playin’ under the same ole’ stars, in my back yard....

if i could fly to the farthest star
i’d still be dreaming bout my own backyard
with the kids and the dogs and the firefly jar, my backyard

white clouds high, steal the day prints the skies in shades of gray where watercolored flowers, parts the way     on a good day, so sweet say ....

On a good day, good day, on a good day I open up my window. On a good day on a good day, on a good day I open up my window...on a real good day.

Indiana sure would like to go home
Red bandana tied around one arm
singin' hosanna with it's burden and it's charms
the prodigal son's comin' home

Adam had 2 sons and a worn out Cadillac
it only goes from first to third, second's never comin' back but all he ever wanted was for his boys to get along the prodigal son's comin' home

And when the river crests what gets washed away
all that's not tied down but the words they stay
put a lamp in the window there is little left to say
so when i return i'll know that it's o.k.

Take my hand in yours walk-a-me towards the door
n' tell me you don't love me anymore, tell me you don't love me anymore.

There's one old part to being wise Jacob told the Israelites idol chatter's a rascal song when the strings are tuned too tight. To paraphrase the whipoorwill I cannot make this flight
the prodigal son's comin' home.
so when i return i'll know that it's o.k.

when the secret became a lie we hid it in the apple pie but it escaped like butterflies, scattering color all over the skies

the truth was like a little mouse, creeping softly ‘round the house no one thought to get it out...

it filled the walls we lived within, of paper dolls, soldiers of tin a tiny world atop a pin...

let it go...gotta let it go...let it go....gotta let it...

dishes stack up like a wish, the sad’s stored in the sugar dish I walked the dog and fed the fish....

There is order in my house......

now where’d i put that cry for help, it’s right there sitting on the shelf think i’ll just help myself...

brother came back from the war, i miss the boy he was before what exactly were you fighting for?

we had made our fairy plans, we’d held them in our little hands but time tore through its specks of sand...

oh dear, what a scare, a real true fairy tale 
it followed us everywhere... now we’re so busy doing absolutely nothing but i wiped the slate til it was clean...

There is order in my house......

i‘m made of windchimes of broken glass, tears of recycled trash we ate the pie that was our past.. let it go.

we forget the stars during the day they burn as bright. yellow moon is wooing someone elses love tonight.

and i am sad when i’m not other things

knab some lightning bugs in a jar swim to the bottom of the sea then find where God hides babies names until their mothers need them.

and i am sad when i’m not other things

i’ll sew my name into the hem of your shirt i will walk when you’re walking, think when you think and i’ll stand when you stand on the brink.

that time i cried you heard me but acted like you didn’t. how i wish i was a firefly or a star just for that minute.

and i am sad when i’m not other things

we are wanderers, we are wandering. Life is poverty, life is vanity. We are wanderers, we are wandering. Life is aptitude with no sanity.

Pablo Neruda me and little Buddha, we was sittin’ on the stoop just wastin’ time. Neruda says tell that story ‘bout the old lotus blossom. Buddha says I’ll tell it man and I’ll make it rhyme.
-badup bah, badup bah....

Well they was tellin’ stories and what it all cost them. About all of their loves and how they all lost ‘em. It was a matter of fate it was a matter of time, ‘til I fell in with a bottle of wine.

And it’s oh no, oh no, go slow, go slow. There’s no point in reading ahead you know. Whether you’re rich or poor, ‘til you hear that knock on the door; they won’t let you into heaven one second before.

And I know it’s been written. In my head I hear voices. So hard bein’ a believer when there are so many choices. Never let it be said that we didn’t try. Walking on water, walking on water.

If I had a boat I’d paint it blue. If I had a song I’d sing it for you. If a raven sat on the head of a poet and whispered the truth then how would we know it.

And it’s oh no, oh no, go slow, go slow. There’s no point in reading ahead you know. Whether you’re rich or poor, ‘til you hear that knock on the door; they won’t let you into heaven - they won’t let you into heaven - they won’t let you into heaven- they won’t let you into heaven - one second before.

the brush is full of the colour of birds
like eyes of fish from another world
sweat and hands and shiny coats
white and yellow, orange notes

painting the boat, painting the boat, painting the boat...

lay it on the belly of kings
that roamed the skies of a million seas
deepest dusk of blue-green salve
deepest dreams i dare to have

painting the boat....

layers and layers of lovers and losses
can dig you a hole in the sea
pretty new pennies that promise the moon
can still leave you stranded on the beach

if time were this, a boat on blocks
where once it sailed, but now does not
i could just paint the boat all day
until my ashes are washed away

painting the boat....

words and brass and rosining
bows of armor, paint and string
and so it is with brush in hand
simple strokes of a layered past

i’ll just paint the boat til one day, i set sail one week from sunday...