The words exist between us like celebrations of warm love.
I shall travel the Highlands and the Lowlands to discover you between the pages of a very ancient and empowered sun.
You could not fool me when you looked into my harbor light eyes and your voice cracked like a drunk hummingbird or exhausted sparrow.
The poetry has always served as a magical armor protecting me from the darkness while casting the bad spirits from my lonesome soul.
There were those days when I drove with Hank in his Cadillac to the next gig.
I’ll never forget how he and Audrey fought like cats and dogs and how when they made up there was no shielding one’s eyes from their flames of passion and unquenchable desire.
There is a frozen lake and a destiny I must never forsake because the Father never really abandoned His Son and if you believe everything you read you’ll never reach a higher plane of existential resistance.
The pylons down by the waterside teach us how truth always wins out over nonfiction and an engine of love needs no gasoline to run forever and get us to the next joint.
Does he ever wish he was still Tangled Up In Blue or does he understand even Norman possessed neither the tools nor the brilliance to save him from himself.
Another show, another verse written on hotel stationary as this troubadour learns another trade and the wisdom of age strips the words from his heroic intellect.
I know you’re tired and there’s nowhere to rest, but that doesn’t mean you give up or stop pushing like a mean, but forgiving monkey or Darwin after he’s through cataloging his esteemed tortoises and returns to the H.M.S. Beagle for nourishment.
You are my quest, my glory and my love when the last heartbeat becomes one more reason to head back home. I have tried my very best as have you and before we meet I need to say there’s never been anyone that has meant more to me or makes me wish I were stronger so I can finally find the words to fill in your excruciating silences.