Farmers Branch, TX

Spiderwebs and rollercoasters
The mail piles up and slides aside
The year glides quietly away
How often does one like this
Hold so much, reap so much
And yet just be another?

Again so much time spent
Anywhere but home
Venues big and small, the new and old
Race by day to day
In looking through the collection I feel
Much has been neglected, the words lost
Yet so much gained

The heart beats the same
In hockey rinks, snowy cabins, hotel rooms
On foreign street corners and the vehicles swift
How much has changed?
Iím more surprised than anyone

The sun rises all over the world
With different songs and the smell of coffee
How your eyes can behold a day in wonder
In an alley or an edge of a deep canyon cut by time
Or condemn it as the mind seems to see fit
The admiration of choreographed destruction
Next to the pity of the wandering sort
The anger at the arrogance of American youth overseas
And the hope of the open minded exceptions

I felt sorry for the Anti-Christ on a boat at 4am
And saw the slip of sanity from one canvas to another
To smell the flowers sold by the canal that I still canít name
And walk alone laughing to myself
The people who fell because of illness, fate or selfishness
And how some rose while others just changed lanes
The truths that wait in the shadows, just out of view
Until the quiet leaves the ears and enters the mind
Heroes fell, slept as sullen children and awoke human
Were seen with new eyes and forgiven

Love visited and stayed…

History was recorded and edited and packaged
Caught out of the cameraís view for personal memory
Ear ringing flashbacks opened gatefolds long closed
The dust of the past was not ingested or needed
True friends remained friends, others joined their business cards
In a drawer seldom opened
Children grew and elders shrank
More was forgotten than remembered
Less was written, more was experienced
And all tours ended, on schedule or not.

A few months past, I awoke tired
And stumbled into the back lounge of the bus
Confronted by a mirror, I accepted the challenge
As I rarely feel compelled to look upon myself in that way
I looked into an old manís face
And laughed, felt comforted by his presence
Not shocked by his arrival or threatened
A gentle acceptance of who I am, where I am, time
Like my eyes had finally caught up with my heart
And my heart didnít have to soften the blow

The state of my union is this:
Life is good
Life is hard
Life is full of miracles
Life is life until that life is over;

My life is no exception.