• We were on our way out west
    I started a penciled masterpiece
    you finished the rest
    when your hands didn't occupy the wheel.

    Flatland surrounded us as dimming sun rays
    seeped through the moistened atmosphere
    you said lets stop and take a walk
    but you said we couldn't talk.

    But don't you know
    I think about you all the time
    what you think
    and how you climb
    that stairway up to Heaven
    I keep going
    up and down
    down and up again
    searching for truth
    and hoping to see you on the other side.

    You seemed so cathartic
    who was I to break the intimacy you had with the painted sky
    really it was God who pulled you through that dirt-plastered field
    not you or I.

    But don't you know
    I think about you all the time
    what you think
    and how you climb
    that stairway up to Heaven
    You keep going
    up and down
    down and up again
    searching for truth
    and hoping to see someone on the other side.

    And we are such wanderers
    never settling in our created nests
    I try to take a patient rout
    while your seeds of giving take root.

    But we shall see where our winds take us
    maybe to a Louisiana cook fest
    maybe to Virgina's best
    or possibly crossing across inked lines and on to forbidden pages.


    But don't you know
    I think about you all the time
    what you think
    and how you climb
    that stairway up to Heaven
    We keep going
    up and down
    down and up again
    searching for truth
    and hoping to see Him on the other side.

    And we were wanderers
    passing by
    knowing that it is so hard
    telling this tainted tale
    when you're God's travailing bard.