Friday, March 22, 2013

Find Our Way Home

Field by snow covered field
I searched, but I-94 could not revelation yield
Its so easy to get lost in the smallest of towns
Listen to the whispers and reality upside-down:

Come and worship me, my udders hang low and not small
I am New Salem! The greatest heifer of them all!
Come and sing me praise! sing the sun, the snow, the sleet and rain:
I am Steele! The ever lovely long neck crane!
Come and bow low to me or I will defeat you, my foe
I am Jamestown! White Cloud! Albino Buffalo!

But in our rooms we learned to pray
to sing Your songs, to live the Way
Baptize us in the muddy Missouri!

Bismarck, our home, our peace, our grace
We first met You there, face to face
Baptize us in the muddy Missouri!

Burleigh County, I was lost and weak
You carried me there, You met my needs
Baptize me in the muddy Missouri!

(un)Pleasant Valley Siding/ Dickinson, ND pop. 213,000

Oh, the fatefully named for the painfully forgotten
Deeds from the past still hold them to the bottom
How can they forgive their fathers when they can't forgive themselves
Nightmares of a past, wished gone
PTSD won't move on
When the deepest wounds reopen under the moons or family gatherings

He said not to tell and now I couldn't if I tried
He said show me yours and I'll show you mine
It would be different if I could relive it,
but regrets are so unkind

How can they forgive their fathers when they can't forgive themselves
And how can they father's forgive themselves when they can't forgive their fathers

Dick-in-son: So fatefully named
Dick-in-son: The past remains
Dick-in-son: I hate my past
Dick-in-son: Will this nightmare pass?
Dick-in...

Son of God! We need You now!

White Butte, for the Near-Sighted

Three. Five. Zero. Six.
I can't keep climbing higher than this.
Some states of mind aspire for the Rockies
Why no subject to these fields of lesser feats.

White Butte! So majestic and Tall
Three thousand, five hundred and six feet to fall.
Listen for your name as the wind, it calls,
Objectively so, down on the small...
White Butte.

White Butte! for the fortunately framed,
The less-commonly named and the predictably tamed.
Three thousand, five hundred feet from the sea;
Just enough distance to kindly be...
Humbly known.

White Butte! So majestic and Tall
Three thousand, five hundred and six feet to fall.
Listen for your name as the wind, it calls,
Objectively so, down on the small...
White Butte.

The leaves rustle as the wind passes by,
Its time is fading, its end is nigh.

White Butte! So majestic and Tall
Three thousand, five hundred and six feet to fall.
Listen for your name as the wind, it calls,
Objectively so, down on the small...
White Butte.