January 2009

Trying hard to fill this space
I close my eyes and just create
My hands are moving they are trained
By repetition to keep
Pace the road and read the writing fast
The people pause palpate their
Past the end of prospect street they find
The place of woods I left

CHORUS: And there is a marble there: smooth, white glass
It sparkles clearly in this river of the past
And I can see it glow, like I did when I was four years old
So, so beautiful

But now I’m standing in the street
The pavement hard the cold cuts
Deep beneath the people’s empty gaze
I know there’s meaning there is
Grace my table now and make a toast
To something silly no one
Notes the faded path in my backyard that leads to home


And we have come so far, from where we really are
Let the fear creep in, and I don’t sleep as well as I used to
Oh, let me breathe, let me believe
I will find it again


copywrite Lauren Foster