Thunderstorms wake me in the morning. Hello, there, Thor. Found an old CD case full of buried treasure, including David Sylvian’s Secrets of the Beehive. Might be getting better, but don’t want to jinx it.
Standing firm on the stony ground
The wind blows hot, blows these clothes around
I harbor all the same worries as most,
Temptations to leave or to give up the ghost.
I wrestle with an outlook on life
That shifts between darkness and shadowy light.
I struggle with words, for fear that they’ll hear,
While Orpheus sleeps on his back, still dead to the world.
Sunlight falls, my wings open wide,
There’s a beauty here I cannot deny,
And bottles that tumble and crash on the stairs
Are just so many people I know never cared.
Down below on the wreck of a ship
Is a stronghold of pleasures I couldn’t regret.
But the baggage is swallowed up by the tide,
As Orpheus sticks by his promise and stays by my side.
I’ve still a lot to learn
These fires never stop
Please believe me,
When this joke is tired of laughing, I will sing
The promise that Orpheus brings.
Sleepers, sleepers, we row the boat,
Just you, the weather and I gave up hope,
And all of the hurdles that fell in our laps
Were just fuel for the fire and straw for our backs.
Still the talk and the stories to tell
About all our visions of heaven or hell--
When we feel secure again, such mighty dreams,
And Orpheus sings of the promise tomorrow may bring.
UPDATE: Someone said he liked "my poem." uh-oh. It's David Sylvian's song, Orpheus. You can hear and see it here.