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Description
This is the last place I can go,
The very last place I think I know
Where shards of hate can't follow,
Where all my wounds are sewn.

When I step outside I'm free.
There's no one in my place but me.
Some would like to claim my soul
And some just wait and see.

Watch the wild man walk first.
Which visions will he choose to work?
Slips through the skin of time and trees,
Gathers them from best to worst.

We can choose to test our strengths
Or leave it up to fate.
But the truth will always find us,
And put spin-rapists in their place.

Imagine our stern surprise
When we find that half the world is lies,
We might or might not have wanted to know,
But which carve us like a baby's cries.

Today we walk that razor line
Between confidence tricksters, thieves of time,
And the guardianship of the dawn's first breath,
Where magic interweaves like rhyme.

Life is not a secret sacred verse
From a doctrine, scroll, or something worse.
It's a sensual repast,
And only vaguely a language to do with words.

My eyes are open wide
There's not a single place where hate can hide
That I've not already found it
And yet I part the waters of that tide

We whiny fledgling babes,
Always waiting for someone (god) to save us,
And just when there's some light
We darken it with anger for half an age.

There is more than law to building houses
There's Jupiter and little mouses
There's glory in the rain
That washes away all our useless strain

There is spirit interweaving;
To trust our blanket of Earth's interleaving
Of layer upon layer of ancient care
Which we take instead of asking her.

Look at life's reflection,
I could show you what you thought you'd see.
But if you want a more soulful benediction
Stop lying to yourself, the Earth, and me.

copyright J. Shidler, 5-2012

Description
This is the last place I can go,
The very last place I think I know
Where shards of hate can't follow,
Where all my wounds are sewn.

When I step outside I'm free.
There's no one in my place but me.
Some would like to claim my soul
And some just wait and see.

Watch the wild man walk first.
Which visions will he choose to work?
Slips through the skin of time and trees,
Gathers them from best to worst.

We can choose to test our strengths
Or leave it up to fate.
But the truth will always find us,
And put spin-rapists in their place.

Imagine our stern surprise
When we find that half the world is lies,
We might or might not have wanted to know,
But which carve us like a baby's cries.

Today we walk that razor line
Between confidence tricksters, thieves of time,
And the guardianship of the dawn's first breath,
Where magic interweaves like rhyme.

Life is not a secret sacred verse
From a doctrine, scroll, or something worse.
It's a sensual repast,
And only vaguely a language to do with words.

My eyes are open wide
There's not a single place where hate can hide
That I've not already found it
And yet I part the waters of that tide

We whiny fledgling babes,
Always waiting for someone (god) to save us,
And just when there's some light
We darken it with anger for half an age.

There is more than law to building houses
There's Jupiter and little mouses
There's glory in the rain
That washes away all our useless strain

There is spirit interweaving;
To trust our blanket of Earth's interleaving
Of layer upon layer of ancient care
Which we take instead of asking her.

Look at life's reflection,
I could show you what you thought you'd see.
But if you want a more soulful benediction
Stop lying to yourself, the Earth, and me.

copyright J. Shidler, 5-2012