Darling, what did you do
that made me fall in love with you?
Oh Love, what did I see
that swung me to eternity?

Was it the day you entered the room
with the fire of heaven alight in your eye
and the flowers of wonder fully in bloom
as you followed the map in the sky?

Was it the moment our cheeks finally touched,
when I entered your arms for no more than a hug?
I got swept away by the powerful rush
crashing a growing like waves of a drug.

Was it the day that we sat down to eat
and you told me things which you rarely say?
Your cadence and phrasing and weight of your speech
were spells that were holding me in your sway.

The world stood still and everything disappeared
except for your posture and the tone of your voice.
To get lost in your story, my mind volunteered,
I never even had a choice.

Darling, what did you do
that made me fall in love with you?
Oh Love, what did I see
that swung me to eternity?

Smile like it doesn't matter
that the world is freezing over,
like the snowflakes love to scatter
onto speckled fields of clover.
Twist the corner of your lips
with a self-sure sparkle of a grin
as your skirt sways 'round your hips
waiting for the music to begin.

Smile like you found the ocean
swimming in a drop of dew,
like your veins are full of motion
and the world is watching you
as you wander through the echium
with thoughts billowing your mind
while your eyes compose the requiem
for the love you've left behind.

It's all I can do to try to stand up straight
and forgive all the foes I've made along the way
'cause when I think I'm finally in the right
it turns out I am a shadow standing in the light.
I don't even believe what I have seen,
the fragments and tattered threads of a destiny
woven with life and death on a country road,
coming to terms with mortal flesh and bone.
I am trying to be a different kind of man.
Who can look in your eyes and say: "I understand.
I know what it is that you're going through,
and I'll do what I can to be here for you."
But now I hardly go out my front door.
Mostly I'm at home, sitting on the floor,
humming empty tunes and writing rhymes,
tapping out the seconds as they pass on by.
But I'm starting to think that there's something more,
that there's something bigger still in store
and if I were to put my neck on the line
I would be the one who ends up fine.
I know a thought in my mind is the tool
causing the transformation of a fool
who finally sees that it's his decision
if he'd like to join the world as a magician.

If I flew around with laughter
would my mirth infect the living dead?
Would their groans resound an answer
to the ceaseless gossip in my head
that never seeks the things that matter
but wanders in the gardens of the stead
where discordant rounds of chatter
mimic every paragraph I've read.

If I stumbled through this sorrow
would the sky paint poems out of cloud?
Would the heavy shroud of false tomorrow
find a moment's solace in the sound
that was summoned from a hollow
outside the paved confines of a town
where shady specters tend to wallow
in poisons growing from the ground?

If I was frozen stiff with terror
would the sun spin a coat of warmth?
Would the threads singe or scald the wearer
if he's not filled with righteous worth
that was meant for someone fairer
who roots their comfort in the earth
where not a step is made in error
riding blazing comets through the north.

If I was sick with worry
would there be the comforts of some love?
Would wind push these sails to hurry
and bring some air back to the lung
that was emptied in a spoken slurry
heralding the hurricanes above
where cause and effect go running, blurry
and no one knows what will become.

If my temper cracked in anger
would starlight soften every blow?
Would the lightning clap with thunder
as it rouses the sleeping secrets of our own
that fill these kingdoms up with wonder
and kindly show us how to grow
where we're feeding all our hunger
with the seeds of hope we've sewn.

I'd love to see you swimming
in a sea of ceaseless bliss
where adventure waits beginning
in the fading echo of a kiss,
where life and death start to stall
long enough for us to pass
and understand that through it all
this interconnectedness will last.
If you look up from your basking
and see my shadow standing true
don't be too afraid of asking
"Boy, what's going on with you?"
I'll meet you straight with honesty
and say sometimes I'm uncertain
in this movement to the apogee
but my work is no big burden
for when I finish with the climb
I'll see your face in the eclipse
as the questions of a lifetime
flow answered from your lips.
I'd love to see you lying
in a field of scattered flowers,
not concerned with frantic trying
as we whittle through the hours.

With a wave of my pen I morph cobras into locusts as the myriad creatures shift out of focus. I surf a million empty channels on the wings of a prayer before I get fed up and vaporize into molecules of air. Then I suffer through the turbulence of empty-headed, vacant eyes and twist among the falling leaves to the palace of the sky. But who am I? I'm the archer tripping ******* the flaming arrows of Apollo. I'm the soldier who finds no joy in the enemies I've slaughtered. I'm the passion for the precipice and the thrill of falling of this. I'm half of a tenth of a femtosecond from leaping off these rafters with no real concern for what may happen to me after. I'm waking up at 2 a.m. from fevered dreams of mushroom stems as the room shifts black and blue and everything's illumined with the wisdom of the moon. I would rather be a de-fanged monster rolling in a ditch, fantasizing about facets on the gem of Might-Have-Been, starving for nutrition and the comforts of a friend, dying from this fatal case of gut rot than parade around with people pretending to be something that I'm not.

I went for a walk in the comforts of night,
determined to finally set all my problems right.
I got lost in a daze when I took a wrong turn.
I'm finding my way by the bridges I've burned,
and now I'm low.

I reached up for something that was just out of grasp
and I slipped when I touched it, and fell on my ***.
I was laying and praying, sprawled out on the floor
wondering what on Earth I was suffering for,
and now I'm low.

I went to the mountains to breathe the fresh air
to rejuvenate my senses with an infusion of care.
Then the avalanche came rushing, being set free.
I got caught in the glaciers crashing around me
and now I'm low.

I went to the valley and I looked in the stream
and I saw my reflection staring back at me,
saying "What is that you are running from
that has you so beaten, so rough and so glum
and now you're low.

I wish there was something I could do or say,
but everyone has to make their own way.
What were you doing, in God's holy name,
juggling matches in a world made of flame?
And now you're low.

Get out of your pity, get out of your mind.
The future's uncertain. It could end up fine.
Get back to your work and don't ever stop
'til you've filled your being back to the top
and you're not low."