Saturday, April 20, 2013

Before The Deluge




Some of them were dreamers 
And some of them were fools 
Who were making plans and thinking of the future 
With the energy of the innocent 
They were gathering the tools 
They would need to make their journey back to nature 
While the sand slipped through the opening 
And their hands reached for the golden ring 
With their hearts they turned to each other's heart for refuge 
In the troubled years that came before the deluge 

Some of them knew pleasure 
And some of them knew pain 
And for some of them it was only the moment that mattered 
And on the brave and crazy wings of youth 
They went flying around in the rain 
And their feathers, once so fine, grew torn and tattered 
And in the end they traded their tired wings 
For the resignation that living brings 
And exchanged love's bright and fragile glow 
For the glitter and the rouge 
And in the moment they were swept before the deluge 

Now let the music keep our spirits high 
And let the buildings keep our children dry 
Let creation reveal it's secrets by and by 
By and by-- 
When the light that's lost within us reaches the sky 

Some of them were angry 
At the way the earth was abused 
By the men who learned how to forge her beauty into power 
And they struggled to protect her from them 
Only to be confused 
By the magnitude of her fury in the final hour 
And when the sand was gone and the time arrived 
In the naked dawn only a few survived 
And in attempts to understand a thing so simple and so huge 
Believed that they were meant to live after the deluge 

Now let the music keep our spirits high 
And let the buildings keep our children dry 
Let creation reveal it's secrets by and by 
By and by-- 
When the light that's lost within us reaches the sky

Thursday, April 18, 2013

For you, a poem by Ezra Pound



And the days are not full enough
And the nights are not full enough
And life slips by like a field mouse
Not shaking the grass

Ezra Pound

Wednesday, April 10, 2013

Bring him home



God on high
Hear my prayer
In my need
You have always been there

He is young
He's afraid
Let him rest
Heaven blessed.
Bring him home
Bring him home
Bring him home.

He's like the son I might have known
If God had granted me a son.
The summers die
One by one
How soon they fly
On and on
And I am old
And will be gone.

Bring him peace
Bring him joy
He is young
He is only a boy

You can take
You can give
Let him be
Let him live
If I die, let me die
Let him live
Bring him home
Bring him home
Bring him home.

Wednesday, April 3, 2013

Rain





I opened my eyes
And looked up at the rain,
And it dripped in my head
And flowed into my brain,
And all that I hear as I lie in my bed
Is the slishity-slosh of the rain in my head.

I step very softly,
I walk very slow,
I can't do a handstand--
I might overflow,
So pardon the wild crazy thing I just said--
I'm just not the same since there's rain in my head.

Shel Silverstein (1930 - 1999)