Bits of Paper
I write your names on bits of paper.
I riffle through them in the night.
I must consign you to your Maker
As birds awake the morning light.
My muse has many instruments.
I hear them sing upon the wall.
To play them all would make no sense.
My ears are open for their call.
My feet must follow many paths:
From there to here and who knows where.
I may not do these things by halves.
My life begins and ends in prayer.
I must move on, yet hesitate.
The roads divide and move me on.
I fear tomorrow is too late.
Yet I must seek where you have gone.
July 5, 2013, 10.08am
The opening words came into my mind this morning, because I was searching for something I had written down on a bit of paper and couldn’t find it.
In the second verse, I was thinking about my guitars hanging on the wall in Gloria’s house.
I’ve got the rough outline of a tune, and probably the words will change as I sing the song in. I hope to premiere it next Thursday, at Bradford’s Topic folk club.