drawn to water

Our pale daughter,

drawn to water,

wears her outside in.

She first spoke for us

at two, on the bus:

"I am inside my skin." 

She first noticed me

when she was three

humming a wandering tune.

"Sing me the one

with the moon and sun.

I am the sun in the moon."

she dreams

she dreams of science, dreams of progress,

dreams of wolves running over

(wolves coming for her)

wolves running over the field

(wolves coming into the fold)

she dreams of marriage, dreams of babies,

dreams of wolves running over

(wolves coming for her)

wolves running over the field

(wolves coming into the fold)

she dreams of holy orders,

withdrawal from this world,

she dreams of

god the feather,

god the sun and moon,

god the goat, she

dreams of wolves running over

(wolves coming for her)

wolves running over the field

(wolves coming into the fold)

she believes there must be meaning

in these dreams

she would pluck them each apart

at their seams

and feed them to you

and feed them to you

she would watch the birds fly

and wonder what it meant

what message they had sent

the other side

[[ I sometimes write about boundaries, membranes, layers
I also sneak alternate readings into it. In this case, someone is walking on water and talking about life on the other side, crossing to the other side, and looking down through the ice to life on the other side.
 ]]

I remember the snow

I remember the cold

We would watch our words 

each turn to cloud 

In the middle of the winter

we would walk to the river

hold hands [[ there would be a musical pause here, a shift... and then they step off ]] 

and step off this earth

and walk across this river

step off solid earth 

and walk to the other side

we would brush clear the ice

to watch the world float under

we would clear the smooth ice

to watch a reflection of sky 

and watch the fish swim

there was life on the other side

rain on the mountains

[[verse 1]]

I am come down from the mountains...

Mountains, rumble in my blood
I'll break the bank
in every town
along the way

I am the flood (I am the flood)
And I will wash
(And I will wash)
wash you all away

[[verse 2]]

I am come down from the heavens...

Rivers, gather in my heart
We'll break the back
of every doubt
we meet today

Before we tear this world apart
And I will wash
(And I will wash)
wash you all away


[[verse 3]]

I am the bolt from the blue...

I am the answer to no prayer
You will be struck
before your ears
can hear my thunder

I am plucked out of the air
To lift all boats
(To lift all boats)
or send them under

[[refrain]]

Do you know how far
this rain has fallen?
Do you know how far
this river has run?

Do you know this sun
will burn it all away?
Do you know this rain...
will come again?

[[fade]]

||: ||: rain on the mountains :|| x3
there's a flood coming down :|| xX

[[This one is Flood personified -- the "I" is the flood and storm and so on. It's secular gospel, with plenty of room left for a religious interpretation if that's what you wanted to do with it, though the religion in question could as easily be Zeus & Co.]]

I took a train

A1.
I took a train (she took a train)
because I could not stand a plane
(she took a train) I took a train
because I just refuse to use an automobile.

A2.
I took a train (she took a train)
the time and place, I am not sayin'
(she took a train) I took a train
I think I dreamed through Mississippi with Lucille.

A3.
I took a train (she took a train)
I do not think it has a name
(she took a train) I took a train
I cannot say this train is actually really real.

B1.
I took a train (she took a train)
To see America once again
To see America
eye to eye
one more day

C1.
There's no conductor on the train
No sacks of mail, just pouring rain
Washing the outside world away

C2.
How far we'll go, I could not say
This train is burning yesterday
This train is burning yesterday

B2.
Get a drink at the bar
And from the observation car
I see America
city by city
fade away

I see America
city by city [town by town, field by field, depending on how many times we've sung this thing]
fade away

etc.

[[

I hope the song works regardless of anything you know beforehand, but the plan is:

1. It's a train song, but a train on no real line. Lucille is and isn't B.B. King's guitar. This train got the disappeared railroad blues, which is why it's got no conductors or mail, and it's burning yesterday.

2. Maybe "he" or "she" makes little difference to the song (except for slight possible implications about Lucille), but it might be interesting to think of Gladys Knight (and the Pips singing "she...") in a duet with... Willie Nelson? Ha! Midnight Train to New Orleans. Or maybe this should be a Bonnie Raitt song.

2. The Pips are parenthetical (woo! woo!), as in https://genius.com/Gladys-knight-and-the-pips-midnight-train-to-georgia-lyrics  

This is not a script for a video, but if it were, imagine we picked up Willie and friends along the way, let him sing his piece (Cx) with or without Gladys as we take the train through middle America, drop him off, and then let Gladys and Co. have that drink (B2) as the train heads into the sunset and for the coast.

I don't know whether she's leaving America behind or America itself is fading away or both or whether it's all a simple bottle of nostalgia and silliness. If it was a video, they would be at the back of a train heading west, in an ornate observation car watching the setting sun shine on America before it heads over the Pacific... ]]

A Christmas Carol

[[ I suppose this is easier to look at as a poem than as a song, but it's a Christmas carol of sorts. In summer a water strider prefigures the birth of Christ. Maybe this is the birth of bug-eating John the Baptist. Then, a half year after, when water turns to stone, Mary the bursting girl says his name. ]]

In liquid summer,

surface tension:

a strider

bending light.  

A silver circle 

under sky:

fish dart at

beating wings.

Round the sun,

water to stone

transfigures

in the change.

At the cleaving

of the year, 

song is sung and

bell is rung

for universe

on either side:

for animal,

for spirit cloud.

Set to burst,

a girl sobs,

then says a name

in rising steam.

in our lonely bones

in our lonely bones

we believe in ghosts

we cannot believe

we were nothing before

we are only now

we are nothing after

we cannot take comfort

in that being true

in being that true

a spark in the infinite

nothing

we cannot accept

we are only sparrows

briefly warming ourselves

and then flung out of doors

we cannot believe

what we know to be true

in our bones

we believe our only ghosts

in our lonely bones

we believe in ghosts