Untitled 77

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Jared Morris

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The flowers are still there growing out of the Earth in the field where I rest
Like they were when I was just a boy  
I saw here gathering fireflies early in the evening
One by one

How can you say I was alone with the sound of the humming of the life all around me 
I followed the path made in the dirt to the end of the trail and just kept going  
By the lake

The golden light of twilight just over the trees  
I was in the pasture of life  
The fruit falling over-ripened, a town for the innocent  
The nights of summer's past  
It was green and gold and perfect 

I was a wild cat, resting under an outcropping of rock  
A silent stone statue  
A ferryboat drifting on the Mississippi  
That moment when the night and the day are one  
The smell of the honeysuckle  
A falling star 

There's a moment when you realize where you fit in expanse  
Where for a fleeting moment it all makes sense  
When  gravity and time are just concepts 
And the legends of old blossom in front of you  
And you become the story 

When I'm alone my mind retreats to the meadow 
And the girl and mossy earth under my head  
Clutching and laughing  
Knowing that the wild owes us nothing  
Shelter from the cold  
Water roaring over the rocks  
When time stands still 

A place for you and I to run free
In our heads where the obligations we build fight for purchase  
The sounds of the lake echo across the green
And the first star of the evening fades into existence
You are the star 

It was the year  that I became aware of how deep the water is 
And that there is life teeming just below the surface of everyone  
The melancholy of dusk is happiness to others  
How can you blame them for hiding there? 
Thirsty for silence 

In our heads ring so many things, our gentle creation
Of the fire we built when the dark brought with it the evening 
And the howlin, fire and blistering cold  
Objects colliding with no regard for one another in our heads 
And in the sky Of bone and fire

The last blue moon of our youth when we believed in fairy tales  
Some say we still do  
The details differ but the plot remains the same  
Can we create the magic of the moment 
Or do we wait for another perfect night like tonight? 
I can see your shadow

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