Do not stand
          By my grave, and weep.
     I am not there,
          I do not sleep—
I am the thousand winds that blow
I am the diamond glints in snow
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle, autumn rain.
As you awake with morning’s hush,
I am the swift, up-flinging rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight,
I am the day transcending night.
     Do not stand
          By my grave, and cry—
     I am not there,
          I did not die.
— Clare Harner, The Gypsy, December 1934

We're living in these days at hand
The fall no less, the sin of man
Have caused a stir of fanning flames
In questioning, did God really say?

A sign of the times, this age-old lie
Working ever since our sense of pride
Both as of late and back in the day
To this date, did God really say?

From ancient times to here and now
So many lies that we've lost count
That over time have never changed
Like the one, did God really say?

The serpent whispered in Eve's ear
She must have not heard it clear
That very day paradise went away
With the lie, did God really say?

Man is so pleased with himself
And yet we still swim in self-doubt
Giving the whole farm away
With the question of, did God really say?

My love for you is vast and wild,
A roaring star in endless deep.
Through cosmic tides, so free, beguiled,
Your gravity—my soul to keep.

A roaring star in endless deep,
You burn within my boundless sky.
Your gravity—my soul to keep,
No force can break, no time deny.

You burn within my boundless sky,
A nebula of light untamed.
No force can break, no time deny,
Nor name the fire that we have claimed.

A nebula of light untamed,
Through cosmic tides, so free, beguiled.
Nor name the fire that we have claimed,
My love for you is vast and wild.

I love you though you’re far away,  
or did I misread love’s disarray?  
You’d beat me down, day after day,  
yet my heart still longs for you in a twisted way.

What is this feeling that won’t let go?  
A mix of desire and pain, a tangled woe.  
I pray you’re distant, yet yearn for your embrace,  
a love that’s marred by sorrow, a bittersweet chase.

I want you, yet hate you for the hurt you’ve sown,  
in this conflicted heart, I’m lost and alone.  
Love and loathing dance in a cruel disguise,  
a tormenting truth beneath my tear-filled eyes.

I make room
I make time
I make nothing but connection

You make reason
You make rhyme
I make nothing but exceptions

We make a fool out of me
and a hero out of you
So you are nothing but perfection

We make excuses
We make lies
But they are nothing but deceptions