I am from the battered cymbal and
Dolce and Gabbana perfume and
Adam's peanut butter
I am from the honeysuckle vines
Creeping up the pillars and twirl around my ankles
It tasted like exotic spices and smelled like pond water
I am from the blueberry bush
The lavender rushes
Curling softly around my rusted heart shaped wind chime
I am from Christmas Eve birthday cakes and
Writing my name in charcoal on cliff faces
From Tom, and Phillip and Gerard Butler
I am from the judges and
The singers
From marshmallow farms and
Watermelon seeds
I am from the Kool Aid Communion and
Stolen animal crackers
I am from Providence and ancient watchtowers
Bangers and Mash and ginger beer
From the crickets, wickens and picket fences
The bright red porcupine
I am from heron beaks and the green shuttered house
With the bow and arrow creek
The plum cherry trees
Young ****** noses
And the note I keep in my pocket to remind me who I am

Sky, oh won't you cry
And sing a song of sadness
Rain and run the risk.

Oh you're beauty a raging flame,
           Set ablaze.....
Sets me to sing the Malhar Rag to bring down the rains .

i came upon a girl in the wood
her sun floating smile could not be repressed
the light of her inner shone clearly
like song simple and true
i asked her and i begged of her moment
how far must i travel
before i am loved as deeply as you
she could not answer

in the middle of the long night
came upon a man walking in the stars
the beauty and wonder of the mysteries of his world
spun like whirlwinds and shone from his eyes like tenderness
and i asked of him i begged of him to tell me please
how deep into the wilderness must i wander alone
before i could find loves sweet harmony like he has
he could not answer me

in the resonance of morning dancing upon the worlds edge
i found a girl who was painting a masterpiece of freedoms
a scene of sweet adorations and gifts of souls kiss for all
who are drawn near
i asked her and i begged of her to please tell
me how long must i study at the dusty dry bones of fear
how long must i sit in the stillness of autumn never ending
before spring finds me like it has her
she answered me
in a voice thick and rich
in a knowledge sure
that i had all these things
and left them all behind to folly's quest
to find the love within

Do you see them?
They see you.
Do you hear them?
They hear you.

Yes, you see them
Out of the corner of your eye
Yes, you hear them
During the silence of a ticking clock.

You'd rather not see or hear them
You'd rather they sleep a quiet slumber
You'd rather they didn't talk to you
You'd rather the professionals were right, you're mad

But, you and they know otherwise
They are only seen and heard by you
To others they elicit that "someone's just walked over my grave feeling
Like children at play their cruelty knows no bounds.