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On a gravel back-road, down deep in the |
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FallSo long ago, yet how well |
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I recallMy |
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Grandfather's green truck with the rusted-out rimsand me on the seat, 'tween my |
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Mamma and him |
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How we rattled along, 'till the old |
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Ford, it stalledand |
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Momma said "Jump on out, pick you a big cotton ball" |
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An Autumn leaf scraped its way 'cross the roadwe were headed back home. |
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See the proud, thrusting, curve of the robin's red breastout gathering worms to return to her nest,the lavender haze at the first light of dawn,a woman's clear voice lilting in song,and all the fine words our poets have said,the sparkling dew upon the spider's silk web! |
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Does one matter more? |
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Does one matter less? |
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Who of us can say? |
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The tents are rolled up, the |
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Revival's left townall that remains is the fine sawdust groundstill wet from the tears that fell from the eyesof folks too far down to hang back in pride |
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And I am here, too, like |
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I always was:deep in the pain, strong in the lovestill singing my prayer to |
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Heaven aboveheartfelt and true. |
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Once you were the dawn, the dusk, and the light |
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Without the dream of holding you tightmy days turned to black, |
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I could hardly take breath |
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I stumbled my way thru a fate worse than death |
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But like the |
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Phoenix that rose right out of the fire, |
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I came back too, from a bed of desireand shook from my wings the ash from the pyre,and headed back home. |
