My friend let me share with you,
the secret of what I do,
It really is a mystery,
I have no clue is the truth you see?
It just happens to me.
I ask many questions,
I don't pretend to know,
of what's so familiar it makes
my heart glow. It just is.
From lifetimes ago.
I have a story of what it might be.
Floats around in my head,
demands attention from me.
Compelled to write an
arrangement on life.
Hearing the language
of what's behind my eyes.
But I don't know why.
I love all the same,
everything about this crazy game.
I'm fortunate and grateful to hear,
Another voice in the Wind out there.
Even if understanding's not clear.
It feels quite right,
like the warmth of a light,
Like the smell of a fresh spring day.
I'm in love with it,
when it comes my way.
A mystery this voice in me,
as puzzles are shown to my eyes.
And I don't know why….
But to my own surprise….
Sometimes I try and it's not quite right.
Sometimes I don't and then it takes flight,
and it's right….and a quiet write into light...
but I don't know why.
Just a glimpse you see… it's the oddest part
of the secret me.
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