September 26, 2008

Respect the Ashes of Old Fires

Respect the ashes of old fires. Do not
touch hopeful matches to them. Do not
douse them in water & kick at the muck.
You will only waste your matches
& muddy your boots.

Respect the ashes of old fires.
Bury them gently,
lay them down to a peaceful sleep
beneath handfuls of fragrant earth,
and leave them there to rest.

In a dozen years, or a hundred,
flowers may yet grow
upon that silent mound. And no one who sees them
will know
they sprang from ruins.

September 16, 2008

The Pirate's Last Plunder, The Gypsy's Last Ride (lyric)

He drew his breath from the deep blue sea
And the stars that lit his way
Trusted in his own two hands
Seldom took the time to pray
And maybe it all came too easy
The wealth, the women, the wine
Kept meaning to turn over a new leaf,
Never could find the time.

She found her peace on the open road
Never sure what she was searching for
Maybe just a few foreign words
Or a new street to explore
She sometimes wondered if she was taking too long
If she'd got lost somewhere along the way
Kept meaning to settle down
Never could find the place.

The sky was heavy black velvet
When they met on a soft summer night -
The night of the pirate's last plunder,
The night of the gypsy's last ride.

In her eyes, he found the answers
To questions that he had never asked
For a little while, it hardly mattered
That his best years had gone by so fast
And maybe it was a foolish thing to do,
An unwise step to take
A moonless midnight cliff-dive
A pre-dawn prison break.

The sky was stained in crimson
As the day fought to edge out the night
Of the pirate's last plunder,
The gypsy's last ride.

She traveled in his arms that night
To places that she'd never seen
To the darkest corners, to the ragged edges
Of her oldest forgotten dreams
She sometimes wondered where she would end up
But she knew there would be no way back
That the journey that brought her there
Would be the longest she would ever take.

And the sky turned pale as an eggshell
As a cloudy dawn scattered the night
Of the pirate's last plunder,
The gypsy's last ride.

He took his leave in the morning
Like a light vanishing in the mist
She went back to the patient man who'd been waiting
To welcome her home with his kiss.
Now, every once in a while, they might look up
At the sky on a soft summer night,
Like the night of the pirate's last plunder,
The night of the gypsy's last ride.