Birds in the morning sing of its dawning,
owls in the night time follow a site line –
twisting and tumbling I followed it down.
Only a whisper or a glance in the passing,
took my head glinting, drawing and found.
Exploring a landscape or a beautiful visage,
wide-eyed with wonder of faceted delight; –
windblown hair sandy tundra and mirage.
Like an insect flip tripping from nose to ear,
what glorious feeling is free around here!
It drew me in arms all supporting, enticing,
thrilling construction and gilded lit tones –
gypsy firelight echoing merry go rounds,
rough weave, spatula palleted artists garage…
gorgeous in the mystery of it – our sound.
My heart a stretched out rubber band
here is hopes lying in my hand
tattered, unruly yet with iron will
If only love’s gained by lying still.
Your voice echoes to me – the song is whole
ripples and chilled breeze till the soul
I turn in terror, with fear i’ll find
chips and splatters of the mind.
A new way opens – certainty and trust
spirit doors close slam, car door rust
spurred black boots find the floor
and nothing compares – to that roar
I look up again – you are still there.
The fog has cleared yet the ache in my heart is still there,
I look down, feel for signs of life – yes, it is still beating …
once more I crawl to the edge, kicking loose debris
the water invites – many leagues below.
Solid as concrete shifting in wind driven sheets I gulp air,
can this keep on, if so for how long; my love? How I crave and long
for the warmth of the sun and that salty sea
without so much as a thought I hurl myself
again to a place I do not understand, have not been – nor remember
reaching for something to hold, arrest – something solid …
that place I know we can share.
I look up again – thank goodness – you are still there.
Shooting down the road, heading to bends and curves
Home and street lamps blur, early half lights merge
Wheels just leave the ground – it gently falls away
You’re heading to the mountains… slowly
(boy…. you’d better pray)
– Yellow flower spots –
– climbing, adrenaline blots –
– visual lighting dots –
– catching, in beer pots –
Up and over, through; and through emotion clouds
There! You see your reflection – a dropping kamaki?
Parks and buildings swirl, as you slowly rise
The slow road to the mountains … taking
(All that’s in the skies)
Wake the earth with my fist
Feel the wind in my wings
For Love Itself brings healing –
on all earthly things.
Monday’s like a meteorite, smashing its way through rain,
Fridays I’m looking for landmass – like a hurricane.
Weekdays something just ain’t right, dizzying to the brain,
Fridays I’m looking for trouble – like a hurricane.
Mirrors led & Masonite; cauterise n’ take the blame –
Fridays I’m looking a beat up – like a hurricane.
Sometimes I feel the bullet, always I’ll look again,
Fridays I’m looking for trouble – like a hurricane…
….Hurricane Jane. (Chorus or band chant echoes!!)
Mondays… Tuesdays… Wednesdays… Thursdays… Fridays…
ever been on the edge of reality?