On an afternoon that came too soon,
From the settled shade of an Autumn world,
Under angry sky or jealous moon
Across the burnt out fields and blackened lands,
Among the evergreens and the shifting sands,
in the hollow dreams and their rash demands,
To where the enemy is posing as a friend
To where the start line feels more like an end.
Along the charred bare coast we climb the rocks,
Throw off our shoes and wear through our socks
Our skin it blisters while the camera mocks
Into the ragged surf thrown from a sulking sea
Into the tidal surge and on the count of three
Down on the ocean floor we find the land we leave
And then the faces that we keep fall from our grip,
And the lives we try to lead start to slide and slip.
From an island shore to a wooded glade
See the seabirds soar while the sunlight fades
Count the tangled steps that our feet have made
In the mud.
From a mountain side in a mystic breeze
See an eagle glide on a Godly sneeze
On a winter’s night I would gladly freeze
And on the TV scene they try to fix us from within
Till we’re fit and mean and can take it on the chin.
And it sounds so pale and it seems so thin,
And the chances of it all are slim
They are coming it is closing in,
can we outrun the grip of the darkest night
Can we invent a place that holds still our light
Turn this melting fire to some frozen ice,
I guess the time must come for us to pack our glow
I guess we cannot learn more than we think we know.
I know we grab the snippets as they rain our way
To some windless endpoints where no one can stay.
I guess the mystery of broken dreams survives
To which I can make no distinct reply.
I have no magic to contain our stormy weather
No chance or choice to stop the season’s offer.