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Book of Songs

uploaded: Sat, Jul 23, 2011 @ 4:50 AM

by	debbizo
length	3:10
BPM	115
Recommends	Recommends (4)

Inspired by SackJo22’s ’Indelible Choices’ ~ Thank you!

Book of Songs

In those early days
There were choices to make
And directions to choose
Life was in a hurry to unfold
Yet impatience wished the years away
Like newspaper pages caught by the wind
taking momentary flight
All those words and those stories
Finding sudden wings
Hoping to find a comfortable place in the world of dreams
You had to choose
But choose within the bounds
Of school counsellors, parents, society
You couldn’t choose to be a musician
That would have to come later
That was just a dream
You had to make a living
So you put down your guitar
And burned your book of songs
Scribbled from the heart
You went to business college and learned to type reports
And letters to whom it may concern
You were young and the world seemed boundless
But it taught you to conform
You could walk through many doors
But it was sometimes hard to choose
The one that would lead to a version of you
So many doors would beckon
And so many close in your face
There were many that made you welcome
But you weren’t sure if this was your place
Work, they say, is good for the soul
I say it depends on what you do
And there is flesh and spirit
To draw and to drive
Sometimes the choices are out of your control
They are no choice at all
Our instincts get the better of us
But we learn and go on choosing
In the end, we may learn to do what’s best
But for whom? Perhaps we maximise
Happiness, create the greatest good
We know we should
Be happy and loved
But that depends on the choice of door
And how we shake those ghosts that shadow our paths
Then one day the sky is clear
We see the clouds for what they are
Or what they might become
We see ourselves, and our choices
And walk back to those early doors
look beyond the dark passages
or look lovingly at memories in the corners of candle lit rooms
taste wine and tears and skin
gently close the eyelids of the dead
let our dreams rise to the surface
and waft like incense to perfume our remaining days
remember we lived and learned and loved and chose
we hurt and cared and carried on, choosing to live
and when we arrive our regrets may be few
for the choices we made that we cannot undo
that painted our history on the canvas of time.

(c)Deb Matthews-Zott