Lost
On a painted sky
Where the clouds are hung
For the poet’s eye
You may find him
If you may find him
There
On a distant shore
By the wings of dreams
Through an open door
You may know him
If you may
Be
As a page that aches for a word
Which speaks on a theme that is timeless
And the one God will make for your day
Sing
As a song in search of a voice that is silent
And the sun
God will make for your way
And we dance
To a whispered voice
Overheard by the soul,
Undertook by the heart
And you may know it
If you may know it
While the sand would become the stone
Which begat the spark
Turned to living bone
Holy, holy
Sanctus, sanctus
Be
As a page that aches for a word
Which speaks on a theme that is timeless
While the one God will make for your day
Sing
As a song in search of a voice that is silent
And the one God will make for your way
Jonathan Livingston Seagull by Neil Diamond
I found you, Froggie!
Hello!
Seriously? Do you really have that tattoo, Hopie? You wild woman! I’m glad to see your blog and am going to add it to my bloglist so I can keep track of you better. I also heard from Miguel today, all of my loved Fringe ones are coming out of the woodwork!
Hope you are taking care of yourself!
Hugs,
Chris
Nah, I just put the tattoo on there to freak out my Mormon relatives. My SIL told me I was disobedient to the prophet because I have more than one hole in my ears. I figured a stigmata Hello Kitty would put her over the edge. Sometimes I can be mean!
in a fun way.
Beating the rush (gas prices, and all), I’m pedalling through on my imaginary Too-wheeler to deliver Lily Pad flies your way.
“Do Not Open Until July 23!”
Have a good one, on me: gulp.
Deb xo
Uh-oh, my comment is awaiting moderation. I may need celebrate without ya, girl. …won’t promise the candles will be green.