She stretches her arms out Stares up at the sky, Wishing for the wings, That could teach her to fly, She’s trapped on the earth here, Feet tied to the ground, Forces of gravity, Keep pushing her down, To the world she’s one person, To one person, the world, She wants to be an angel, But she’s only a girl, And though she’s life’s puppet, She’ll break all the strings, But for now she’s just dreaming, Of earning her wings.
I Will Never See The Sun Rise
"I will never see the sun rise, I will never see it set, I will never feel a kind touch, I will never be a pet, I will never feel love, for I will not be loved"
I am finished but you live on
I am finished, but you live on. And the wind, crying and moaning, rocks the house and the clearing, not each pine alone, but all the trees together, with the vast distance, whole, like the hulls of vessels, moored in a bay, storm-blown. And it shakes them not from mischief, and not with an aimless tone, but to find, for you, from its grief, the words of a cradle-song.
The Way It Is
There's a thread you follow. It goes among things that change. But it doesn't change. People wonder about what you are pursuing. You have to explain about the thread. But it is hard for others to see. While you hold it you can't get lost. Tragedies happen; people get hurt or die; and you suffer and get old. Nothing you do can stop time's unfolding. You don't ever let go of the thread.