Its hard to imagine
Yet easy to see
Life grown
From sea to sea
City coast on eastern suns
To the simple life
Of farm living
What we see
Is what we are giving
The floors kept with field extras
Bugs, birds, dirt and all
We are held up
While the road calls
Be on your way
Where it takes us
Not for us to say
Bring on tomorrow
Today was long
With time borrowed
We move on
To bigger ideas
Motivations
Bigger days
Enter fear and dismay
Enter the feelings of dissarray
Collapsing feeling of connection
Pushing me back in my fatal direction
I ask questions for circumstance
Happenstance of my direction
I fall on flat notes of musical indecision
Lacking a true rhythm section
We select naturally
What happens supernaturally
And exit stronger men
Straight lines of mint on county line roads
Staring out seeing dark tree shadows
Making their ways under sprinklers cold
Grass with a golden glow
Waiting the next rainfall or evening glisten
Animals waiting for exceptions
To sneak in under evening light protections
I see the evening run light rails
Hollering trains understated call hails
We wait the train coming out bustling
Heading winds with certain flow
The farms lull me to sleep
Eyes closed in summers keep
Back to Chicago
Toll road to the city strolls
Winds blowing street tires
Filled with air pushing forward
The trips become a frequent chore
We open doors to adjust leather seats
Broken in and ripped
Hand smoked heat from summer shores
Semis headed off to 94
As we head for Lakeshore
Same city
Same sound
Familiar from the skyline to the broken ground
Chicago
My first city
Lake Michigan shores
We head back once more
Rock and roll
Get ready to go
Living on the farm
Just east of
South Bend, IN
The nights we pull
Playing bass going low
Making coffee with the morning
Singing songs
All heard and warming
92 degrees
No sight of water or seas
Here in Indiana
Summers warming up
On the farm
Living just off the cusp
Transience the commonplace
It is the norm
In Brooklyn streets
Where people swarm
On Saturday night
Sunday evenings
We take part in these traditions
Going
Flowing
Rolling
As we make our way from place to place
Make our way out of Brooklyn
The next day
We will be back in Autumn soon
Under the NYC moon
Transient nights
Transient days
Transient travelers fill up
Fall out
And fill up again
We find ourselves amidst the flow
Going where the concrete goes
Back and forth
In between
We will miss the NYC scene
The constant race
Of the human race
Coming face to face
With realities
Of what will Be
What will not be
Committed to a community
Of people breathing and sleeping
Communicating all sensations
Of creations
Temptations
Frustrations
Sharing with each other
The ideas of lovers
People hate
Other continue to love
We work well
On a Wednesday swell
Of the city
On the ground
In the NYC Town
Under the Empire sun
The city resets in the evening
Continual receiving
Thick lines run blurred into the night
The world centers herself
Around the NYC shelves
From Jackson Heights
To the Bushwick and Greenpoint
We held hands
As we felts our way
Through a city heralding a
Skyline
Heralding
The sun
We blink our eyes
Rub them dry
To see the Empire sun
Settle over the western sky
Over the east river
We await
Waiting
For yet another day
Arise
Awake
So much is at stake
Minutes take seconds
To change
In one instant
The hard work
Begins to rearrange your life
New opportunities await
Challenges left hurdled
In your wake
Do not sleep past the rising sun
The morning calls
Opportunity calls
Arise
Awake
A Cup of Songwriting 