Satellite
and it's four in the morning
And I'm pressing out my clothes beside my bed
Fourteen years been on the job and with many miles behind
Still I'm up at three thirty to make sure I'm there on time
My car gets me along just fine to and from the station
But my castle is this Houston Metro Bus
My first stop is Ashbury.
And the sign's been gone for years
but all the same the people wait cause they know that I'll be there.
What would you say if I told you that I won't be by today?
Would you say that I'm just a bus driver
and what do I know
Weeping Willow
if the earth was a willow
and you were one too
-would earth be weeping
so gentle and true?
if i was the garden
whereas you could grow
-would you hand me your brAnches
and grant me your love?
in between the lines of your story-flowing through
the pages of a book so well prepared the
words leave more than ashes from your pencil
when it speaks of tiny stories that happened
through these years
I swear that your present reality-disillusioned
obscurity? -will gently wipe away the tears
of wasted seeds
how Can we go through this
-with wounded wing before we learned how to fly
how can i control desires
-when desires burns on a chilly autumn Night?
i will try and make you imagine;
the aura where they stand
is filled with little secrets
-as written in the sand
Naked as a child at birth
a question in disguise
an oasis in a lonely desert
where lonely unknown lands lie
from here and into infinity
-humble and timeless
philosophy-you gently wept away the tears
of wasted seeds
all the days that have left me
and the species i have seen
ahead days will follow
-it was only a dream
though my garden is growing
under skies out of blue,
and it changes Each season
both in colours and in truth
you should know that a willow
-a weeping bed's pillow-
until all days are through
the rain that fall on your branches,
Just yearning
for a source to feed it's primal need
can maKe your beauty blossom from within
with flowers blowing
in the wind-and in seasons to follow....