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Saturday, February 17, 2018
You Make Me Real ,The Doors [STUDIO VERSION]
hum..it's another stuff...
Wild Child , The Doors
coming to you
i do not only carry
fire in my hands,
i collected seeds
i do not know,
i brought garden soil
and pebbles,
i bring water, rivers,
i took the wind
with me,
and i brought me
and the non-me
which is part of all.
i carry my soul in my skin,
a heart in my fingertips,
the spirit in my silence
and my arms are a cradle
where you can sleep
and wake to the birds
singing, see, i brought them too.
all i bring i have never
possessed, i bring what
i have been given.
I cannot steal the water
of immortality nor will
i slay dragons.
I am a simple man.
I bring my smile.
and i will listen to you.
take care of us.
be gentle with me
and forgive my imperfection.
let us find grace
with the gifts of life.
and let us smile when we can.
fire in my hands,
i collected seeds
i do not know,
i brought garden soil
and pebbles,
i bring water, rivers,
i took the wind
with me,
and i brought me
and the non-me
which is part of all.
i carry my soul in my skin,
a heart in my fingertips,
the spirit in my silence
and my arms are a cradle
where you can sleep
and wake to the birds
singing, see, i brought them too.
all i bring i have never
possessed, i bring what
i have been given.
I cannot steal the water
of immortality nor will
i slay dragons.
I am a simple man.
I bring my smile.
and i will listen to you.
take care of us.
be gentle with me
and forgive my imperfection.
let us find grace
with the gifts of life.
and let us smile when we can.
radiance
see this dove
in the sky,
in flight,
wings spread
one impulse
out of the sun,
one radiance
of a soul
tracking its way
in the wind
all one, perfect
doing and being
me, on the ground,
my fingertips burn
with a longing
to grow wings
o to be as free
without my human
mind which seeds
thought into being,
binds me with
ego and divides
my days and nights
with consciousness
of death and past,
i must grow flowers
inside and rise to
light learning grace
in the sky,
in flight,
wings spread
one impulse
out of the sun,
one radiance
of a soul
tracking its way
in the wind
all one, perfect
doing and being
me, on the ground,
my fingertips burn
with a longing
to grow wings
o to be as free
without my human
mind which seeds
thought into being,
binds me with
ego and divides
my days and nights
with consciousness
of death and past,
i must grow flowers
inside and rise to
light learning grace
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