Beyond the fresh grass
Of spring
And the decay of winter
The blue of spring
And summer
Awaits the
Moment
Beyond the trees
And in the thick of the rough
The wild light waits
To bring the fervor of
Another
Summer day
To the course
And to the game
A bitter world
Can bite
With no advice
From what
Lies ahead
Upon the shores of summer
Faded spring growth
Into the sustenance of summer
To be hearty in the bold heat
Humid glow of the moon
To the small creeks and ponds
Of the Indiana shores
Hold up the reason
That you left
Like a season
Over the water
Deep of Lake Michigan
There is a city
That could be anything
But can be nothing
The sun and the clouds
At ends
So the clouds have dispersed
Into the sky
And from that sky
Comes the endless blue
When the sky forgot to end
In my eyes I see
The distant scrapers
Upon the shores
Of Lake Michigan
Under the shade of a dense green tree
In the damp hour of light
The rainlight
Plays through the limbs
Into my eyes
On my skin
To take it all in the shelter
Of summer
Cool and hot
With the rainlight
Pouring in
In the dusk
Of the spring day
When the work of bloom
Is hardly underway
Into the summer
With damp thick winds
There is a place
The world keeps
Where the Wildflowers Sleep
Under the moon at night
Gentle sway
Gentle light
Take me to the place
Serene and peace
To see
Where the Wildflowers Sleep
Along the shores
Of a southern bending river
There is a city
Made from the times
Gone by
From that town springs life
Year after year
The river that raised me
Runs through the center of the city
To know this river is to know my life
From the water we are created
And will one day
Be washed away
Was it yesterday
Or the day before
From the walking silence of responsibility
Goes the man
Who delivers no hope
No resolution
To walk out and never look back
How can the live of a human being
Not be so fragile as to crack
In the silent of the evening hours
For this is the blueprint of
A man who never came home
What would happen
From the teeth of time
Biting into memories
Aligned with
Hope or fear
Would I know
If time was coming up
From the rear
Would I be spared or laid bare
In the time I have to imagine
That I have done the most
I can
For if time had teeth
What would be the move
That the clock would ensue
Form me from the clouds
Of smoke
That billow from the wreck
To be born again
Not in perfection
Rather the most imperfect
Comes new life and
Understanding
Reborn from the wreckage
My soul
Jumps at the chance
To try and understand
That we can be born
Again
Everyday
A Cup of Songwriting 