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JOURNEY OF MAN
By Julia Woodman
wellnessandcreativity.com
and WoodmanJulia on X
Show me your heart ~ and I’ll sing for you.
I’ll play my part ~ ssh, don’t tell me what to do ~
I’ll listen ~ and choose ~ from the stream
of cosmic visions ~ passing through.
Hmm, hmm – it’s gonna be the blues –
Yup – we can dance, we can groove,
we can take it any place we wanna go,
we can grow as we glide along the road
to only God knows where…..
Ain’t no place to hide once we open up
the throttle, wide, like our eyes….
as we catch the glints of lies, all mixed in
with crazy dreams of paradise glimpsed
through a gap in the hills over the rise.
Don’t stop to drink the water –
we’ve got whisky enough for all of us.
There’s a time for the natural
and a time for the real hard stuff ~
and there’s so much darned heat!
But we don’t need to stop yet to eat –
d’ya wanna bet we’re gonna last right around
the bend – plus a few more hours ~
never stop while you’re going full blast.
Gravel crunch mixes with night sounds –
shrieks of foxes, and the swoosh of owls
passing around and above, like the call of love
looking for a place to rest before fading out
like the moon going down before the sun is found.
And next weekend we’ll do it all again.
It’s the meaning of life in one big can
~ pouring out into the shadows
to crawl and slide round the streets
and climb up walls with bare feet
to greet strangers struck with surprise
as a tiny spark flashes before their eyes
and gritty whispers find their way inside
their hearts and souls to drag them closer
to whatever it is – that they feel within
like wishes and kisses – twinkling, bristling,
making hairs stand up on their skin
glistening slickly in the flow of evening
like petrol pumping through steel.
And one of these years we’ll find
a town where there are no more tears
because light has eaten up all the fears
that used to lurk in greasy gutters
before the songs cleaned them out
and chased them down to nothingness –
so there’d be no chance of distress ….
when we arrived with comfort and grace –
which is sometimes just as difficult to face
….. until you let go of all defense.
We’d waltz around in sun-dazzled courtyards
with piano, horns, and strings…. for a while –
until we began to think again of other things
like metal, and drums – and rock & rolled away.
This is the journey of man ~ ever lapping
to the torn edges of time and back ~
long dark coats flashing by like ghosts
whisking in and out of ancient pools of history
like thick oil twisting over withdrawn aeons –
travelling a path we can’t quite escape –
because there’s no resisting the mystery.
We don’t need to hope because we’re living it –
stamping about in our own philosophies
~ we rise and fall and rise again ~
like the tides of galactic consciousness
sweeping over planets, stars, and moons
~ and right through every cell in our bodies ~
until we cry out for our fathers and mothers.
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