an old album by The BoDeans

vincent van gogh, small pear tree in blossom, 1888

animal bones fall from the cold clouds like snow 

elk   dog   owl

and from these bones the humans make primitive things 

tools   art   dinnerware 

collecting the bones the humans create small songs

and as they work they sing 

upon hearing this new music the bones quiver 

in the hands of the humans

like frightened children at their parents' feet 

and life continues on and on

-----

a sea of illusion surrounds 

the island of my tiny life 

high tide comes 

and washes over the way I live

and over what I am   

what am I   

I wonder that   

wet 

and what shall I become 

when I am dry once again

-----

coffee and an old album by the bodeans a month with no rain and dust in the air walking on painful feet on a bad knee the son that I lost is in my eyes again he is walking the halls through my heart time is a hammer pounding I smile until the world looks away and wait for the quick moments when the world isn't watching me suffer

by james lee jobe

the bodeans, good things

"Go as a river." 

Thich Nhat Hanh

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James