Child Inside

As through the years I've wandered

I was a compost coyote, nothing squandered

One day while turning over the pile

I saw myself, five years old, he made me smile, then he said,

"Upon your self-seas younger your nets brimmed with desire

let's recast and reconjure the child inside."

A cold business wind leaves us just skin and bone

Where did the human inside of us go? Where is our child roaming?

Honey, come back home, baby come on back home.

My child, what have they done to you?

Don't let their studied tones and schooling fool you

In the judge's chamber the good cop grins

bad cop has his trigger finger ready if you won't go in… but don't go in.

Cause there's a priest-class trespass in us, too

until we feel either guilty for not doing it

or guilty if we do… but that’s enough now.

The child jumped the fence at the end of the track

now he's laughing, running down the deer paths, he won't look back.

The child he stoops to wonder

moths flutter soundless in the jade-shade thunder

through the underbrush he's porpoise plunging

heart is an autumn orchard ripe with wanting...

To climb that silver ladder

and taste the grapes that hang there

bats in the lavender air

moon rising high.

The tree shadows reach towards wash of stars in the sky

river deltas of veins flowing wide

let's fly down the zip line

the shock and splash delight, that's where yr child resides.

A cold business wind tries to leave us just skin and bone

but I stopped listening a long time ago

cause now I see where my child's roaming

honey, we should go

baby, come on let's go out to meet him.