
Mist of waterfalls
Flowers light in the morning sun
Small boats on a lake
Water’s still there is no one
Leave room for sad eyes
Winter earth
Hints of Spring
Ice sings a ripple song
So Dylan’s eighty
What message to send his way
Life and life only
Fill up all the empty pages
can’t seem to say what I want to say
all those phrases empty spaces
between me and a better way
I draw close to pen and paper so word wary
no resonance no rhythm no meaning necessary
I can’t dance
I can’t sing
I can’t wrestle this night train down
I can’t keep this beat
up time in my mind
Listen to the distant howling
is that a watcher in the wood?
Raise a wave for the black bird flying high
It is impossible to reach there
but I’m still going to try
And bird rides straight on through blood red sky