This strange and magic world
Song and words fill voids where silence lives
Watching through invisible eyes
At what becomes of a thought denied.
Sitting with purpose
Mind turns endlessly round on this and that
And nothing in particular
Except the moments that remain in the day
The echo of despair could live there
If allowed a soft spot to sit awhile
To wrap itself into the endless horizon
But no welcome mat waits behind
Helpless if no action moves
The mind to fly on broken wings
That somehow still can work
When falling in a spin down
To solid ground that waits.
In the ease of new days
The second hand ticks off the moment
When light will come in the morning to a soul
Waiting to begin again
A tale of dreams.
There is no mystery
To complacent simplicity
As words and a gentle rhythm fill the heart
With a promise of hope
That somehow, somewhere
Today will be different,
Than those that passed before.