Joy and sorrow flow from my hand like reeds.
I play them as a harp,
la la la:
to entrance and express.
Thunder is the Blue Eyed Spirit Horse,
his hoof-beats, my heart-beats.
The tornado roars in my ears,
over my head, through my soul,
and I am not afraid.
I know poetry, storms, hard work,
sacrifice, responsibility, love.
I do NOT know:
how to survive without a paycheck.
the varied theologies of dead men.
how to run an organic farm.
every album Phish ever produced.
Therein are we different.
Therein lies our beauty.
Learn from me.
I will learn from you.
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