As the air grows cool
And the days grow shorter still
I long for colors
As the air grows cool
And the days grow shorter still
I long for colors
Some days I weep for rocks and trees
Those blanketed in ash
Some days I weep for putrid breezes
From which I will dash
Some days I weep for oceans blue
Gone sour beneath the waste
Of man, ruled by “I before you”,
And so before the world, in greed and haste
Let me be judged
Not by man
Nor by gods
Let me be judged
By the earth beneath my feet
By the trees that shade my paths
By the wind whispering in my ears
Let me be judged
Let us not labor
But build together a world
We can be proud of
Shadows lengthen
Across all the land
As the sun’s redeeming light
Retreats
Whispers grow louder
Upon the winds
As the warmth of summer
Diminishes
Yet the trees speak of winter
And the colors of change
That when the sun returns
They might be ready
The reddened skies foretell a bloody day
And by and by I shiver for what comes
Such promises of wind and thunder’s drums
Threaten to take me and lead me astray
I am e’er troubled
By time passing while I sit
Idle and inert
Music whispers
At my ears
At my eyes
At my fingertips
Waiting to be heard
To be played
To be sung
Waiting to change me
To change the air
To change the world
If only I would notice
Would hear
Would listen
I walk amongst the ashes of a place
Gone dry and cold from unbound fear and greed
Light me by the fires
Of Mother Earth’s divine wrath
Fill me with her rage