Tuesday, August 19, 2014

The Weaver

I've no choice but to trust my destination
Whether heaven, hell, or a blissful reunion
Would have never
Braved experience
Standing quiet on the sideline
Throwing stones at any fixture looking down
The river

Angel angel please
Hear my whisper
I climbed a shadow's stolen lullaby
So falling seemed a comfort
And posed as a blessing

They said change would come
With every horizon
Though I woke on the high road
Where the light forgot to shine
And everybody dreamed
Of a new reunion.

Sunday, July 20, 2014