I stare out the window,
watch the fog turn to haze,
as it paints its way across this city of chaos.
If you stare hard enough you can see the wings of passerbys,
some of them dirty, tattered,
shrouded in the rips and tears of life;
others are taped on,
stolen from someone unknowing,
a robbed soul wavering unsteadily.

I lose myself in a trance of storytime tales,
there is magic there,
squint your eyes to see.
We lose sight when we see things too close,
when we try to define every moment;
some things should be left to mystery.

I want to write secret notes to strangers,
tell them they are the beauty in the grey,
the delicate balance between breath and beyond our hollow words.
I want to stand at the start of an ordinary day and dance,
wear striped tights and bells,
paint my face, my hair,
my reckoning;
be a part of the wild side of things,
the opposite turn of a page,
a magazine read backwards,
and upside down.
Raise my arms high and close my eyes,
screaming loudly,
while I tumble down the edge of the world.

You are not a failure to the plans drawn up,
they were yours to create,
and destroy,
and rewrite.
These dreams are worth more than the actual outcome of a single day.
More happens on the flipside of nine to five,
and you know it,
yes, you know it.

So, tie that ribbon tight around your box of wisdom,
strike a match,
and burn the headlines.
I will light a candle and sew them back on,
You can steal back what you think you lost,
or we can make a brand new set of promises.
Take an oak branch,
a sycamore,
sew in ginger and glitter and kindergarten glue,
mixed in with the leaves and flowers that your children drag home,
at the end of a long walk home.

Stop reaching for what is simple and convenient

I will sketch you a plan for today,
and not tomorrow,
Open the blinds and stare off in the distance with me.
I will make a yo-yo out of your past,
a stuffed fish out of your disappointments.

See down there, the smoke is clearing,
I know you can fly.

Bright as Yellow :: The Innocence Mission

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