2011-06-14 - waveform
driving its compelling course
full of loathing and remorse
through the desert of divorce
up the mountain ride
on the other side
downward slope and glide
to the sea...
there's no room for pride here with me
traveled west then traveled east
battle tested by the beast
I came down from north to south
with no fishhook in my mouth
now residing without hiding
safe abiding and confiding
island breezes sweet caressing
thank you Jesus I'm confessing
You have been so very good to me
here where I'm expressing by the sea
all the things that have been told
write them down before you're old
make it clear and tell it bold
for the ones to follow
the children of tomorrow
that's the reason for this season
don't be teasin it's just treason
to refuse to muse on what's been shown
each life has a purpose know your own
down here where the pace is slower I could be a garden grower (who knows it could happen) (why not) (hey) there's more to this rhyme than I can say.. but there'll always be tomorrow just make sure you let the sorrow of the things not done mourn to completion - there might be some gold in that concretion - why I came here it's no mystery I came down to record history as it was and is and ever will as the call to arms rings on the hill gentle island breeze caress me still let the words come forth unaltered till all that has been told and what's been done comes and goes of old beneath the sun bringing up earth's treasures to the shore till the time reveals something more... eclipses of the moon could be in store... although that's not what I came down here for.
�
�
