little leaf, reaches for the sky.

rides the wind, hugs the sun.

dreams with a voice of love,

only knows love.

delights in simple joys.

little leaf, dreams of an ice cream cone.

(a child at play in the park.)

the wind has something of your wild song,
whispers in a voice i knew long ago.

there is nothing here accept the empty wind,
nothing of you and me,

i could paint the silence with the moon,
kiss your mouth, touch your hair....

but we are forgotten like this song
of the wind, and in the emptiness

i can hear the faltering wave
fall against the belly of the sand

running like the white clouds
race through the sky,

where the stars fall like old ruins,
this ghost dance of stars, these crashing,

crashing waves. where is the freedom
of the falling water?

not in the breath of the earth,
not in the silvering of the sea.

the church bells,
the church bells,

the church bells are ringing.

the angels are singing
the sad refrain of the dreams
of us moths into the flame

that leave us grieving of the ringing
of bells.

the church bells,
the church bells,
heavens and hells,

a spirituous mist
has brought us to our leave

with the summoning ring of the bell
falling silent.

Always talks you down
no religion in his frown
He's bigger than you or me
loves to see you down on knee
He's backed you into a corner
He's isolated you as a loner
Accuses you of assualt
If you protest he balks
Always your fault he says
Turns your thoughts to maze
I've said too much
Between his thumb's touch
I said too little
Calls all attempts piddle
I thought I heard you laughing
Just him slashing
It must have been a dream
or so it seemed
The beginning was the end
The remains are prayers and amens
Just the distance in your eyes
Just the mask of your disguise
The no answers to all of my whys . . .
Now I've said enough