Sitting pretty on the window sill
Perfect and pleasing to the eye
Facing the rising sun
On a clear blue cloudless sky

Do you dream of open spaces?
Of stretching your arms free
Spreading like the mighty oak -
Or the lofty banyan tree?

Would you your leaves be swept by winds
Your breath carried by rain
Growing in the wilderness
With flowers wild, untamed?

And if I hold you close to me ...
Would I hear your soul cry?
Sitting pretty on a window sill
The perfect potted bonsai

Earth comes out of its greenroom

I bend at the window
looking through the glass
down upon its vastness

something out there is wrong

the future's not what it used to be
a shadow tells me

I feel mysterious today
a stranger to myself
I don't recognize my voice

objects outlive us
but we are more than an accident of stars
someday we will be infinite
breaking into the distance

by serene velocity
by delicate transitions

bringing us closer
to a renewed interest in happiness

Old shadows new colors
Above our misunderstandings
I took on guilt
Obsessed with the land of fools

Directionless yet clearly seen
An unlocked 38
Addicted to the craving for freedom
Glued to the dust-red horizon

Hollow echoes of the past
Old shadows new colors
Everything and more I kept for us
In mornings of brooding and ember

Born corrupt
In the corner of a gleaming bar
Surrounded by roaring men
Old shadows old colors

That horizon once was me
Always searching for more and more
Addicted to the craving for love
Old shadows new colors

The swings hum softly in the wind,
clouds drift like slow balloons,
and the rivers race each other,
laughing all the way to the sea.

Mountains wear their crowns of snow,
trees play tag with the breeze,
while the stars peek through at night,
waiting for the sun to hide and seek.

But we, so busy building walls,
forget the feel of grass beneath our feet.
We hold the sky in photographs,
too scared to reach out and let it hold us back.

The rain is just a skipping stone,
tossed from some far-off, gentle hand.
The world spins like a merry-go-round,
yet we clutch the rails, afraid to let go.

Look closer, can you see it now?
The colors, bright as chalk on pavement.
The echoes of laughter in the hills,
the quiet voice that calls your name.

This world is a playground, waiting still.
Not a prison of glass and steel.
Jump higher, run farther—fall if you must.
The hands that shaped the stars
will catch you in the dust.

Song Tears for fears, Everybody Wants to Rule the World.

Reckless unlucky poor wretch
She’s roamed much. She’s suffered much.
And no matter what happens around her,
It’s all the one – she is still such.

She was in any way kind to world.
She never had any blackhearted thoughts.
She trusted much, dissolved in love.
She gave herself with no second thoughts.

She slipped away into her love.
She was sure no poison was there,
No rude and mortal human drafts.
There was only the truth! And nothing else never!

But there was a lot of dirt in real,
A lot of stiffness, a lot of falsehood.
She gave her love with no doubt an’ fear
And they in reply only croak of crows.  

She’s so panny plain, naive and homely
And she still live against the odds.
She roams the world and dumbly shuffling
Forever forbids herself to love.

we woke
to winter weight

and silence
snow upon

bridgeandroofandroad
now the sky

a catch
of blue

pigeons punch
the sun

seagulls satellite
in circles

this carousel spins at perfect speeds

light is never
uninvited

love even
less so