Not everyone flies.
You land hard a lot.
Then just as you think
it's time for a new direction,
just as you think
it's not worth another stumble,
a fresh fall onto your knees,
you launch and take flight.

An updraft catches your wings
and you're airborne.
And when you eventually land
you see that you've got
somewhere new,
a whole new perspective.
That's when you know you're a flyer.

Not every line flies.
You land hard a lot.
Then just as you think
it's time for a new direction,
just as you think
it's not worth another stumble,
a fresh fall,
your thoughts take flight.

An updraft catches your wings
and you're airborne.
And when you eventually land
you see that you've got
somewhere new,
a whole new perspective.
That's when you know you're a poet.

Not every prayer flies.
You land hard a lot.
Then just as you think
it's time for a new direction,
just as you think
it's not worth another stumble,
a fresh fall onto your knees,
your prayer takes flight.

Your spirit resonates with His
and you see His face.
And when you get to your 'Amen',
you see that you've got 
somewhere new,
a whole new perspective.
That's when you know you're a pray-er.

The look of welter, in a brother with fear,
Is the love that's fading along with the tears,
Broken pieces of a garden he's been crying for,
And with pain in his body, he keeps rising back for more.

The look of a father, when he gets you alone,
You have seen it coming, and you know that he's gone,
The dust under your tongue and love in your hand,
Knows that he will never come back here in the end.
And  you try hard, loving them,
Try loving them,
Try hard, try loving them.

There's a look of war in the words that he throws,
And wound the weak hearts like they're a fiery arrow,
From all that quick warmth, they have built the blame,
When all that is burning are his human flames.

He may be looking at the smile and lift,
A friendship that to you is a gift,
And there's no escape when he changes you,
But he's changing too.

And you try hard, loving them,
Try loving them,
Try hard, try loving them.

Little thistledown
As anxious as you and I
But never ill-judged

Would you dig a tunnel to me -
one that's wide enough for you -
so you can reach me through this distance?
Prove to me I matter, too.

And would you walk from end to end,
in the dark and all alone,
just to touch me one more time,
or see just how much I have grown?

I have laid a road to you.
Many times I've wandered on it.
I can never find the end.
I guess I'm just a hypocrite

"Leave me with questions and leave me hanging,
Don't look back even if I am following,
The sparkle burns in this winter, swirls of warmth under my skin."

Heard the mirth and heard the sough,
Of the fire that wants her tough,
Her eye is dancing with her lips,
Colours burst, and her palms lose their grip.

"Squeezed in the jostle, only one thing I see,
A blaze, a lightning that can set me free,
Flames I want to love and a heat I can't carry."

The pull on her breath grew way too strong,
It silenced her voice and took her along,
The stiffened flesh, it moved instead,
Wading in memories inside her bed.

"Flickering sails, names of ships inside my chest,
Moorings drifting to deep welters without rest,
And the hulls are shaking as the waves turn to a nest."

Dreams of high hopes in the morning,
Had her slumbered estrangement mourning,
And she made the effort hers,
So she'd keep his love safe from smother.

"What do your warm hands feel, when there's more than flesh and bone ?
What will your head think when the mat under us is gone ?
Take the words you have said, and take the ones I've blown."