Enneagram Records

I AM
I wrote “ I Am” when I was part of a women’s trio called Blackbird. Each of us had a verse – maiden, mother, crone – our voices coming together in harmony for the final Goddess verse.  Every time I sing this song I still hear their voices in my head.  I actually feel different with each verse.  Whether that is the nature of the song or because of my memory of these wonderful women, I do not know.

I am the maiden, I bring the springtime
I am lover, warrior, muse….
I’m of the ‘tween times, the dusk and dawning
I’ll stay if I choose….
Daughter of the moonlight
Lover of the land
Warrior of the wood
Muse of every man….

I am the mother, I bring the summer
I am parent, partner, queen….
I’m of the day light, I bring the autumn
I go where there is need….
Daughter of the sun
Mother of us all
Partner to the god
Queen of heaven’s hall….

I am the crone, I bring the winter
I am teacher, healer, hag….
I’m of the starlight ancient as heaven
Keeper of the stag….
Daughter of the night
Teacher of the strong
Healer of the true
Hag who leads you home….

I am the goddess, I’m old and new
I am all and I am none….
I’m of the living and of the waiting
I weave all into one….
Daughter of the moonlight
Mother of us all
Hag who keeps you true
Goddess to the god!

WHAT HE MISSED
I was still a Songwriter’s Circle regular at the time I wrote this, and the monthly challenge was to write a song with a tag.  “That’s what he missed…..” As with most of my songs, much of the imagery here is right out of my life.  However:  “The pictures that she drew on the window, in the winter, with her breath that made the canvas when she saw him outside the window and blew him a kiss….,” was inspired by a scene from the movie Young Sherlock Holmes

Twice upon a time now he loved a woman
They met in darkness and loved complete in a short while
She left the first time but said she’d come back
From the east, where she was looking
For the pieces of her life, to retrieve them with a kiss
That’s what he missed

He missed her kiss, touch of her dew
Caress of flesh, pictures that she drew on the window
In the winter with her breath
That made the canvas when she saw him
Outside the window and blew him a kiss
That’s what he missed

He’d burn some popcorn she’d brew some tea
They’d lay their bodies down and watch tv until the morning
When they’d sleep, his arms around her
And she would wake him if the demons
Disturbed his sleeping, she would still them with a kiss
That’s what he missed

His dreaming took him away the last time
And for the first time he wondered why he’d thought he’d have to choose
Between the dream and the waking
The way together was hard, but she’d been willing
But would he still find her waiting with a kiss
That’s what he missed

Twice upon a time now
He loved a woman

YOU FOUND ME
“You Found Me ” is not the real title of this song.  My recording engineer/producer told me I needed a song title related enough to the song that people could remember it.  To me, however – and to my closest friends – the song will be forever known as “Shorts”.  Which is short for its original title, “I Want My Shorts Back”. The song chronicles an experience I had at Heartland, a spiritual festival in Tonganoxie, KS.  The experience ended up being just that – an experience. A moment in time. The subject of the song, however, had borrowed my favorite pair of shorts, back when I thought I’d see him again on a regular basis.  You can probably guess how things progressed from there. But I liked the song and decided to keep it. …. Oh. I got my shorts back.

Hope I didn’t startle you
Didn’t mean to catch you off guard
But that’s how you caught me
I was looking for music
Just a simple song about what I could be
That’s where you found me
Under the moonlight
Bathed in firelight

Didn’t notice you notice me
Thought it was just the starlight reflected in your eyes
Even when you spoke to me
Thought it was just the energy that made my spirits rise
Never said I was that wise
How foolish I can be
Come on and laugh with me

Sitting across a circle watching you sing your songs
Seeing the life within you wanting to sing along
It’s been so long
Cold was creeping in from the dark
Fire had smoldered to a spark
We spoke in low tones as the night went by
Someone kicked a log and the flames blazed high
Like you and I

Hope I didn’t frighten you
Didn’t mean to fall so quickly but you found the key
I wasn’t looking for answers
Just a little hint about what life could be
That’s where you found me
Inside that burning tree
Hey Moses look at me

Sitting across a circle watching you sing your songs
Seeing the life within you wanting to sing along
It’s been so long
Cold was creeping in from the dark
Fire had smoldered to a spark
We spoke in low tones as the night went by
Someone kicked a log and the flames blazed high
Like you and I

La-da-da-da-da dai-dai

That’s where you found me
Under the moonlight

HIGH UP IN THE AIR
I performed at the Kansas City Renaissance Festival for several years in a duo called Black Blooded Bohemians. My partner and I got an off-season gig at a castle in Illinois.  I think the owner had brought it over in pieces from Europe and re-built it for his wife. (At least, that’s the story I tell….)  I had strange dreams while I was there. During the long drive back I kept myself awake by writing “ High Up in the Air”.

He built his love a castle high up in the air
Brick by brick and dream by dream
From the foundation to the highest stair
But sometimes brick is broken and dreams remain unspoken
They wind up empty tokens
High up in the air

His love lived on a mountain high up in the air
She came down to the valley they met in secret there
But secrets can be uncased and trust it can be misplaced
And dreams they can be laid to waste
High up in the air

The call rang out one morning high up in the air
For soldiers to come running and meet up in the square
No enemy was to be seen, just one lone archer on the green
But his arrow would fly neat and clean
High up in the air

Now his love lives on her mountain high up in the air

She never saw his castle and of his fate is unaware
She’ll love no one but he they say
Though she believes he did betray
But he can only watch from far away
High up in the air
High up in the air
High up in the air

FLY
“Fly” was written for the wedding of friends and I got to sing it during the ceremony. (I’m happy to say that they are still together!) “Piece of twine, your hand in mine. Tie the knot….”  This line refers to the ancient Celtic custom of binding together the hands of bride and groom to represent the act of binding their lives together. I’ve seen a number of variations on this theme and it is always beautiful.

Why’d we come here
You’re trembling… is that fear
I’m frightened, where do we go next
Do I lead the life my mother led
Will it be my father’s path I tread
I’m frightened, what happens next

Do we let our hair down and just run away from here
Say goodbye to all we’ve known
Just ride and let the horses steer
When it’s just you and I
I know that we can fly

Look at all these faces here
Their belief in us is clear
They’re not frightened about what comes next
Do you feel the energy
I believe I found the key to what happens next

So make me a promise and I, I will give you mine
May the fires that forged this ring
Burn in us ‘till the end of time
As we weave, the winds will rise
Beneath our wings and we’ll fly

I remember why I’m here
Look in your eyes is that a tear – like mine
Our hopes and dreams of the world to be
Are wrapped in this moment, fly away with me

Piece of twine, your hand in mine
Tie the knot let the god and goddess bind our souls (I love you)
Can you feel my heart beat
Yes, alone I was complete
But with you, now I am whole

By the earth that is her body and the grove that is his home
Our tears will weave a web of light
By our words and deeds our faith is shown
As the droplets touch the sky
Across the rainbow we will fly

CLEARER IN THE NIGHT
Several years ago there was a film being shot in Desoto, Kansas. I can’t remember how I heard about it, but they were looking for music for their soundtrack.  And more specifically, a theme song for their protagonist.  So I set out to write a throw-away bit of Americana. (Yes, this was before I realized how very cool the genre can be.  Lesson learned.)  I ended up writing a song that I fell so in love with and was so proud of that I couldn’t bear the thought of handing it off to someone else.  I had no idea how reputable the film company was or what would happen if my song was chosen, so I took my tune and went home and have been playing it ever since.

You know sometimes you think you know just what you want
And baby sometimes, you think your motives are up front
So you walk in and turn on the light
But baby sometimes things are clearer in the night

When I left you, you know the sun was in my eyes
I couldn't see straight, light off my guitar can hypnotize
Don't think I was wrong, but I sure wasn't right
But baby sometimes things are clearer in the night

You know they say it's darkest before the dawn
If you can just hang on
But sometimes the dark is where you find yourself
And when you find yourself in the dark
Sometimes you find it's where you needed to be
Away from the light
‘Cause baby sometimes things are clearer in the night

Now the sun's up, I can see my way home again
It's been a long night, but now I’m stronger than I’ve ever been
I hope you see I had to put up this fight
‘Cause baby sometimes things are clearer in the night

You know I know it's hard to sing along
Yes it's a strange new song
But darling if you could find it in yourself
To find yourself in the dark
You know I'll be there waiting for you just out of sight
‘Cause baby sometimes things are clearer in the night

Yes baby sometimes things are clearer in the night

MIDNIGHT BUS
When I was an undergrad, my college concert choir sang at Epcot Center.  On the way down, we stopped off at several locations for concerts.  On the way back, however, we had two drivers and did the drive straight through.  This song came almost entirely from the images and sensations I recorded throughout the trip. Someone really did line the back of a seat with post cards covered in palm trees. The paper bag crown? Burger King. I still remember the bus driver asking where he was supposed to go – like I knew!  He was confused because he was looking at a larger map, but needed to be looking at Insert A. Another musician had recommended this form of writing – simply recording ideas and images, then stitching them together. I was surprised at how well it worked. The song became a metaphor for…  well, all kinds of things. Every listener brings his or her own cloth to the song as well.

Welcome to the midnight cross-town bus
You found the place if you've lost your way
This is one ride that keeps you going
Until the beginning of another day

And the driver keeps asking if I know the way
He's got the wrong guy, see insert A
Buzzards circle the patient to clean up the kill
The world whizzes by and I begin to feel ill

Palm tree postcards line the back of the seat
The queen of the bus wears a paper bag crown
They're handing out maps of the world while we're here
And we all listen for the sound of the sun going down

And the driver keeps asking if I know the way
He's got the wrong guy, see insert A
Buzzards circle the patient to clean up the kill
The world whizzes by and I begin to feel ill

Midgets in the median reach from black earth
To boomerang clouds in a reoccurring sky
Withered weeds wave as the window grows dark
And all I can hear is the sound of time going by

And the driver keeps asking if I know the way
He's got the wrong guy, see insert A
Vultures circle the patient to clean up the kill
The world whizzes by and I begin to feel still

Rusted cliffs once proud and strong
Bent to the hammer and bled chalk cloud
Blind birds bathe in muddy waters
Dancing to song of the burial mound

And the driver keeps asking if I know the way
He's got the wrong guy, see insert A
Buzzards circle the patient to clean up the kill
The world whizzes by and I begin to feel ill

Welcome to the midnight cross-town bus
You found the place if you've lost your way
This is one ride that keeps you going
Until the beginning of a new day

EVERY DAY
One night I was watching a TV show called Mysterious Ways.  The episode was called “Condemned”, and it’s the only episode I ever saw. The series is about a guy who tries to find explanations for – or proof of – miracles.  The main guest character was is a violent criminal who has survived lethal injection. He feels no remorse or responsibility for his actions. He is on death row and convinced he shouldn’t be. The episode focuses on one of the regulars helping the mother of the victim come to terms with bitterness and grief while the main character tries to suss out how the criminal survived.  Eventually, the killer comes face-to-face with himself and his actions, and the mother somehow finds a path to some level of forgiveness.  The episode ends with the killer going willingly (well, as willingly as one who wants to live can) back into the chamber.  He apologizes to the mother and their eyes lock until the chemicals take over and – finally – do their job. I couldn’t get the guy’s eyes out of my head (the character was played by the fabulous William Forsythe). “ Every Day” grew out of those eyes.

Can you return a life that’s been taken
Can you bring back a yesterday
You sit and you cry over what is broken
I think you’re looking the wrong way
Well don’t you know, with every little lie that’s spoken
We kill each other a bit every day

You hold your signs up on the corner
Stand on your boxes have your say
Then you spite a friend to defend your honor
I read about it every day
Well don’t you know, with every bit of trust that’s torn here
We kill each other a bit every day

I write my songs of hope or protest
I think I have so much to say
But am I really being honest
Am I giving truth or giving way
Well don’t you know, every time that we make love a contest
We kill each other a bit every day

I know you’re tired and weary
I know it’s hard to find your way
But you’re alive if you can hear me
If you can move, you can play
If you can play you can love
If you can love there is a way
To save each other a bit every day

So put away your fear and anger
Just leave your doubt there at the door
Take a deep breath and face the sunlight
Remember what your heart is for
Come on out and find each other
Let’s show our children a new way
Find strength and love in one another
We’ll save each other a bit
We can save each other a bit

I know you’re tired and weary
I know it’s hard to find your way
But you’re alive if you can hear me
If you can move, you can play
If you can play you can love
If you can love there is a way
To save each other a bit every day

So put away your fear and anger
Just leave your doubt there at the door
Take a deep breath and face the sunlight
Remember what your heart is for
Now, come on out and find each other
Let’s show our children a new way
Find strength and love in one another
We’ll save each other a bit
We can save each other a bit
You know, we’ll save each other a bit
Every day

BABY BIRD
During a particularly rough transition in my life, I lived in Weston, Missouri for a month, house sitting for my boss. I spent several days sitting outside with my guitar, willing the countryside to inspire me.  I was trying far too hard to make something happen. One day I became distracted by the insistent chirping of a nearby bird. And when I say I was distracted, what I really mean is that it was annoying.  But I stopped.  And I listened. And I was quiet. And so was the bird. I don’t know for how long, but I sat with the bird and the silence and the sunset. And that night the song finally came.

Baby bird’s insisting that it’s time to rest
His sharp consistency I must confess
Makes me quiet for the first time today
I sit here quietly, don’t make a sound
My heart beats silently, I look around
For the first time (like this) today

Purple ribbons drape the sky
As golden fingers wave goodbye
Fading into blue-gray sky
Then going dark like you and i

I sit here playing on my old guitar
I might as well be wishing on a star
It’s not the first time I’d have wished today
I hear the frogs and crickets start to sing
Baby nestles under mama’s wing
For the last time today

Where do I go from here
The nighttime sings to all my fears
If I cried out would someone hear my voice

But hope has funny ways of creeping in
I think about that bird and what’s in store for him
When tomorrow becomes today
Has he learned to fall and has he learned to fly
Can he think about it and does he ask why
Or for him is there just today

I lay me down in my bed alone
This life I’ve chosen’s not an easy one
But something lifts me up and makes me strong
Like the wind
With a song
Or a baby bird

LIFE IS BEAUTIFUL
There is a movie called Pay It Forward .  See it. Have a box of tissues. I watched this movie, sobbed for somewhere between twenty minutes and two hours, then I picked up my guitar and let this song write me.

People walk down a crowded street
They don’t look at each other at all
But in an alley an arm reaches out
To stop a stumble from becoming a fall
Life is beautiful
Yeah, he says life is beautiful

Don’t let them tell you life is just like that
They want it to be black and white
With a good side and a bad side
But somewhere in the night
Lovers are loving and good men are dying
A baby is being born
Dreamers are dreaming; someone is lying
A bird cries with the dawn
Life is beautiful
Yeah, she says life is beautiful

In the boardrooms and the classrooms
They are tired or they’re afraid
Of the answers or maybe the questions
How do you unbuild a monster that you didn’t create
So you walk slow with your head low
Trying to remember to not ask why
When in the middle of a concrete sidewalk
A flower raises its face to the sky
Life is beautiful
Yeah, life is beautiful

For every tear that’s cried in grief a star shines in the night
For every back that’s broken and bent another head’s raised high
I go out on my balcony sometimes when I can’t sleep
My heart is filled with the enormity of it all
If i could breathe I would weep
Life is beautiful

The unbroken scream – life is beautiful
My soul cries – life is beautiful
My heart sings – life is beautiful

SUMMERLAND
I wrote this when an acquaintance of mine committed suicide. I imagined her singing it to her husband (sadly, he followed her a few days after) and friends. The song, as songs do, has grown beyond its original intent and is appropriate for anyone who has crossed over.

In my dying, find no sorrow
In my leaving, find no hurt
You will see me tomorrow
In mist rising from the dirt
In the early morning sun
I’ll be flying with the sparrow
Off to the summerland

In the summerland I am whole
In the summerland the winds are not cold and bitter
I’ll finally rest and have no pain
And one day I’ll come back from the summerland again

Will I see you when I return or will you get here before I go
Or will our souls cross as we learn the things we need to know
Does it matter in the end
We all come from the same yearning
Our roots all together

In the summerland I am whole
In the summerland the winds are not cold and bitter
I’ll finally rest and have no pain
And one day I’ll come back from the summerland again

I’ve got no more time for talking, I’ve got no more time for fear
I am flying now, not walking into a light that I can hear
So be happy for me my friend
All my doors are now unlocking
The final key is there

In the summerland I am whole
In the summerland the winds are not cold and bitter
I’ll finally rest and have no pain
And one day I’ll come back from the summerland again

In the summerland I am whole
In the summerland the winds are not cold and bitter
I’ll finally rest and have no pain
And one day I’ll come back from the summerland again