Songs I Sing. B. Germain Reynolds
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and bones
Waiting for the touch of hope.
Who Gets Me?
When it rains, and I get wet
When they tempt me, and I am beset
When they come for me, and I am weak
When I break out in sweat and patently reek
When the fire rages, and my hair gets singed
When my feet are tangled, and my pride is dinged
Who gets me?
When the floodwaters rise, and my boat sinks
When the power is out, and everything is on the blink
When my pencil breaks, and I do not have a pen
When the milk spoils, and I have less than ten
When my team loses, and my tea runs cold
When the music stops, and I refuse to be sold
Who gets me?
When I wake up early and still miss the bus
When I open my heart, and my passion is a plus
When I sit on a chair, and the legs break
When they turn up the heat, and I’ve had all I can take
When my covers are cold, on an unmade bed
When I lean out the window and fall on my head
Who gets me?
Sometimes Sing!
Sometimes sing!
Energy bring.
When your breath is taken by a sight or sound
And marvel overtakes you.
When truth sinks into your conscience
And sets itself to music in your soul.
When you get so tired, plain words will come out wrong
Relax, there is always a song.
From babies to children, so they learn how to listen.
Teenagers testing their voices on top ten tunes.
Adults and elders shouldering care.
Those who grow plants,
Raise chickens,
Teach.
Softly as a hum.
Lustily, as often as you eat.
Sweetly in the tempo of a believer.
Loudly, above the instruments in the band.
Reverently hearing the words as a lesson just for you.
Proudly joining the bats, birds, fish, frogs, insects, mice, and whales.
Sometimes sing!
Human thing.
Songs We Sing
A cacophonous din in my head rings
Clashing with my soft cries for at-one-ment
Quieting when the choir of voices sings
Their pitch and cadence richly heaven-sent
Who takes first prize, second place, lowly third?
What came before, after, next, or dead last?
Will only dire consequences be heard?
Or can choices claim a role in the cast.
Character rules in the lyrics I spit
Nature and nurture write the final score
The songs are raw, repetitive, and writ
From my heart to yours our shared folklore
Songs we sing when we are sorry and sad
Songs we sing while we are merry and glad.
What to Do?
When they come for you
Their voices snuffing yours out
Their actions rendering you impotent
Their wants diametrically opposing yours.
When desire disappears
And smiles elicit stares
And tears erase laughter
And touch terrifies.
When fiction fizzles
As truth sounds out a rhythm
At odds with your hopes
In step with your fears.
When energy lags
And peace is poetry
Incompatible to your prose
And blood is thinner than water.
When time rushes on
And leaves you unsteady
With gaps in your recall
Too wide to cover with notes.
When joy is a piece of cake
Or a cat’s meow
Or an old love song
Or a forgotten phrase.
When they leave you alone
To cover up the scars
To pick up the pieces
To shore up the walls.
Brick by brick
Piece by piece
With tattoos of triumph
Your billboards of acclaim.
To issue statements of conviction
To write lyrics to live by
To sport whiskers of witness
That winning is believing.
Taking names
Leaving crumbs
Holding fast
Pounding and pushing.
Borrowing from history
Rewriting the conclusion
Drawing family from fracture
Painting a new picture
Embracing tomorrow
Bringing a fresh tab of answers
As you constantly ponder
What to do?
Life Verbs
Write
When the pen is full
And the heart is open,
Read
Until dusk turns into dawn
And the words start to make sense,
Sing
With soulful pitch
And a thankful spirit,
Speak
After you have prayed
And God touches your tongue,
Run
Far away from trouble
And toward the light of peace,
Walk
With