lyrics
I noch an arrow in my bow
And aim it where I seek to go,
And lose the shaft and I give it flight,
To watch it fail, an awful sight.
Completely is my target missed,
It is not by my arrow kissed.
I failed by lack of skill, not might,
And that then is my sorry plight.
While in the air, its free of care,
I fletched in hope, my aim was square.
But miss the mark, and I miss it wide,
I watch if past my target glide.
Connection with my aim I try,
That’s why I let my arrow fly,
But in between the string and ground,
Liminal, it’s space is found.
I learned to talk when I was young,
Share meaning with my inept tongue.
Connect, with words so clear and true,
Was what I really tried to do.
But words are fickle things at best,
Which put us to a dreadful test.
We strive to make our meaning clear,
To land straight as the others hear.
I say a thing, and my aim is bright,
But in the air the words change flight,
And they land asquew and not foresquare,
Instead of mend, they rend and tear.
Connection from my words I try,
That’s why I let my phrases fly,
But in between the thought and sound,
Liminal, their space is found.
Though born we were, and pass we will,
We walk the space between them still,
And aim our words and our deeds with care,
And watch them land, for ill or fair.
We each into our lives are loosed,
By unseen bowstrings, from our roost,
To set us out upon our course,
Propelled by unseen divine force.
We live within the gap of things,
While life, to us, it’s wonders bring.
The space between, is always home,
However far we try to roam.
Connections from our paths we try,
That’s why we set our intent fly,
But in between, while outward bound,
Liminal, their space is found.
credits
from
Liminal,
released September 1, 2018
license
all rights reserved