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Saturday, September 20, 2003

 A Song I wrote many years ago ... .

long before I'd learned that the child who lives behind my eyes would always remain to inform the grownup that I would become.

Being!
One soft and shining early morn ... I was 6,  I think, and wishing
for a friend ... a small one ... a bit like me
grownups seldom listen
It wasn’t long ... a butterfly came circling my head like a wreath
I held out my hand ... open ... gently
she lit!  I didn’t dare breathe ...
I learned that day as she held me there
with a touch lighter far than a kiss
she could only be held in an open palm
just think of the wonder of this!

My soft and shining early morn I bring back with my strummin’
my fingers bring truth through butterfly strings
truth of being not merely becoming.

One warm blue sunny afternoon with a sky strung with white ribbons
‘twas a listenin’ day ... a glistnin’ day
a day to be glad you’re eleven
to think of the day before you were born
and even the days before then
to wonder at chrysalis ... rings of a tree
spider webs ... seeds on the wind!

My warm blue sunny afternoon I bring back with my strummin’
my fingers bring truth through cloud ribbon strings
truth of being not merely becoming.

In the lavender evenings of the years in between
filled with hope ... filled with joy ... filled with sorrow
Many books I have read ... many folks I have known
would have me believe life’s tomorrow.

Still my butterfly mornings ... my cloud ribbon skies
 I bring back with my strummin',
worn fingers bring truth through still lovin’ strings
truth of being not merely becoming.
O


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