Is it so wrong to hope?
I ask you again.
Is it so wrong to hope?
To be still and pray for a better tomorrow.
To be still and pray for a better today.
It is not wrong to hope.
Because in the end, hope is all we have.
Though, we cannot be still for too long.
We must act.
We must be:
The hands and feet of our city.
The hands and feet of our country.
The hands and feet of our world.
It starts with the circle of family,
and dreaming bigger,
and moving despite doubt,
and hoping beyond hope,
and seeing our neighbors succeed.
And then all of a sudden that circle of family gets larger.
The depth of love more profound.
Until what’s left is one body:
and seeing one unique vision lived out in the lives
of each individual person.
Do not place value in a wish.
Because a wish is fleeting.
Place it in hope.
That what is wanted can be had.
That dreams can be attained.
When they come and doubt you, ask them,
Is it so wrong to hope?

Like Prayers

If I only knew how many nights you’ve prayed for me,
maybe then, I wouldn’t want to take it. But I do. I really
do on those bad nights. You could never know how
bad. My life. Some sad haze washes over me when I
think about it. The makeshift altars run like prayers
along the side of the road. And mothers, like you,
wince when they see ‘em. I wince too but it doesn’t
mean I don’t see the beautiful things. On days
like this though, I guess I don’t notice as much.
She said, “Get right with the Lord,” and I mean to.
We all mean to, guess it’s just takin’ me longer.
Be patient with me God, but please hurry up. I’m not
sure how much longer I can swim in my own head.
I’m not sure how much longer I can drown.

From Fall to May

Oh, how I miss the golden grain,
now in some winter sad.
I drove the car clear up to Maine,
just tryin’ to make you mad.

What’s left of this lonesome pain,
Tell me, what’s left of dad?
I wish the house’d go up in flames,
it wouldn’t be so bad.

The bank tore the house in two,
Ya wanna run away?
I miss ma, how ’bout you?
I know, nuthin’ left to say.

And I had a favorite color too.
Yours brought in the day.
The irony is the color’s blue
Sad from fall to may.

I’m sad from fall to may.