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There have been too many leavings to list in one place. |
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Too many arrivals to ever retrace |
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And all who have wandered have not fallen from grace, |
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Just done a few things they'd like to erase, |
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And met with their shadows face to face. |
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Up on the ridge top a coy dog cries, |
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It's the mother a coyote with bright yellow eyes. |
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A coy dog' s half friendly the other half wild, |
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Half is homebody and half is streetwise, |
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It can't help it's nature and but God know it tries. |
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Star light star bright, |
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All the dogs are restless tonight. |
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Leave on the porch light, |
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I'll be home after midnight. |
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It's all blessed and restless and up for debate, |
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A season and chance to alter a fate, |
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But a moment can pass just because it can't wait |
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And time hits you hard with terrible weight, |
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Like a rock to the forehead stamped with 'Too Late.' |
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Star light star bright, |
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All the dogs are restless tonight. |
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Leave on the porch light, |
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I'll be home after midnight. |
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Our vision is often faulty. |
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We see but through the glass darkly. |
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And yet, we know deep down, |
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When we hear the sound, |
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When it speaks our name. |
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The moon eats is center until it dissolves, |
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Then conquers the shadow with single resolve. |
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Here's to hoping for wholeness no matter how small, |
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Asking the questions that cannot be solved. |
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And following the ache of unnamable call. |
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Star light star bright, |
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All the dogs are restless tonight. |
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Leave on the porch light, |
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I'll be home after midnight. |
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I'll be home after midnight. |
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I'll be home after midnight. |
