the storms of life may rage
and courses be obscured by the waves
for ships, not yet worthy of angry seas
with anchors ropes not long enough
the touch the bed beneath.
so we're tossed
at the whim and will of wind
who knows it's source?
to rise on the breeze
and give us hope
of horizon shores,
of sunrise morns
that promise more
then the quiet desperation
we've carried like cloak.
I'll help you heave it overboard
that weight thats threatening to sink
us like Jonah's body, we released
to the mouth of the deep
in hope that this violent act
would find us
just a little peace,
for you will always have a place,
to rest, in the harbor of my heart
but dear you can't remain
it's not your destinations port
but theres a slip with your name
in golden hues, embossed upon the bark
a quiet place to bear your soul
held fast in the murmurings of dark.
a light house on a cliff
warning you, of how close you are
to the rocks, that in our lives so far
both of us have spent more time
then we'd like to admit.
Track Name: EXCAVATION
I have scraped and scraped the ancient brick
only to excavate skeletons
of men past who used to have
wine upon their lips
and I feel as if I am one of them
destined to a lonely death of addiction
with a last breath I will address
the weight of my state
I agree we're damaged goods
from love lost or love misunderstood
…anchors jammed into the cogs
have screeched this to a halt.
Oh murder this in me.
Baggage that dragged me down so low
Dregged out this from the bottom.
Can it be washed clean?
Or is it only in a dream
where we can once again begin.
But as every brick like my wrongs
stack One on one.
I create my tomb
Can this progress be undone.
Treasures emerge from the muck.
Cargo of a sunken ship
whose port long forgot.
Remind me of it's destination
and of the mercy in the waves.
Stave off my desperation
remind me of the winds, that carry me through.
could these bricks upon excavation
have a golden hue.
Track Name: SAND & STONE
I am flower Of the field
I do not spin or worry about what harvest yields
My pedals like mane blow in the wind
That like lions breath is heaven sent
Producing words that light and heal
Calming hearts of savage zeal
And makes spirits with prides tarnish, neil
Before the hoisted colors of the conquering lamb
Beneath the breeze my pedals bow and break free
Floating upwards transcendently
Only the author of the breeze knows where they'll land
within this Pedals sail is a seed
In darkness hides but is known completely
And yet discretely is planted in the soil
And there it waits for it's time to die
But in death there is no dominion or defeat
Because on the battle ground where darkness and light meet,
light will have triumphant victory
Trumpets blare like lion roars
And the veil as with giant claws is torn
and all else crumbles like a castle in the sand.
I am a danger to this world
For in my breath are these same lion roars
like a castle in the sand, its all crumbling, crumbling
Track Name: WAKING
I am going to pine
I am going to pine
for water to turn to wine.
But I have had so little of the first.
And I have been drinking sand and eating rocks like bread.
And when I thought I was as good as dead,
a trickle began to flow in the stream bed
like a diamond in a field of coal.
You asked me to speak
but all I've done is beat that stone. (and I am going to beat that stone)
And I ask for you to let me wet my lips
in hopes I could eclipse one light for another.
But there is only one true light, all else is reflection.
Like an image in a dirty pool or
convex of a silver spoon
its face less than perfection,
and that's what you want but I can't supply
because as I've said my well is dry
no matter how much I've tried I've tried tried to pour in it,
so I by your goodness all I am is poor in spirit.
I am your dearest, in a desert panting,
a blessed son, and when I am undone,
your promise is that your that one that will finish,
and bind up this broken heart,
and piece back what's been torn apart
from years of neglect and wandering.
I am going hold fast, to the woven three,
a life line in a tumultuous, angry sea,
whose waves are attentive to whisperings
of the one who sleeps in the bow,
who vast oceans or even hell can not contain,
but who dwells in me complete.
Blessed be his name.
So I am going to drink and drink and drink
this liquid cure and hasn't proof only belief,
that when I am weak, forlorn, and about to sink,
there we meet.
On the road, on the mountain, and on the sea.
You ask me to wait wakefully, but all I can do is sleep.
So wake me up Lord, wake me.