February 11, 2012

They Call Them Rungs (Don't They?)

That's gotta be a good gig. He's been there forever

More wishes, more children, more impossible things

The singing stays the same

Like cookies cooking on a winter's day

Like help for the helpful before we sleep

Like something quiet and something blue

Like finishing a puzzle with a friend, I hear

This fits here and there's always room for a little more pink

There's something wonderful going on with cute

These days cute can punch you in the face

These days cute can conquer a nation's capitol

What will next year hold?

Kittens and gators and sunsets and napping

A young man will walk a mile in someone else's shoes

The moon will shine down

He'll think about important things

And he'll think about a glass of water

He won't have time to paint a house or make a home

He won't see the sun looming behind him

His nose not buried in a book

His shoes wearing thin

A young woman will take a jetplane to a better place

Being better for not being here for a while

And days will wend until that better place is reduced to the rubble of "that place that doesn't have my bed"

And a second jetplane will sort that out

And grass will continue growing here and there

And she'll sit on a rooftop deck

With a good drink and weather and wonder what's next

What is all this stuff doing for me?

I really like some of it

Like I really like lunch