“I feel like I get born-again a lot. I feel like I can easily drift into being dead as well. There’s a crusty shell we get as we get older that shuts us off from being blissfully oblivious. We’ve all been hurt. It’s a way of portraying the thing we often try to protect and hide our innocence as a strength.” -Jon Foreman

Monday, February 25, 2013

Never Know



Broken laces and worn out soles
Asking questions of every green filled jungle crack in the soggy asphalt about
Dried worms and birds
And how it all works
And "mamma where do the butterflies go when it rains?"
And she didn't know but talked about wings or funny things 
And how God drowns the bugs to feed hungry beaks

And no I still don't understand

Feathers sailed through the evening clouds
Singing loud lullabies to her nest and mamma made me listen
As the sidewalks glistened
And a Windshield ended the song and I probably cried.
"mamma where do the animals go when they die?"
And she didn't know but talked about the sparrows, some lilies, and peace.

And no I still don't understand.

Chubby young hands held an empty bowl and asked again
Mamma buried him under the spring clover
And I built a broken twig fence around the tiny grave.
"mamma will there be goldfish in heaven?"
And she didn't know but talked about shining sidewalks, mansions and happiness

And no I still don't understand 

And I got up and dried my eyes
And mamma said it was all alright
And the clover covered graves multiplied in the red earth
Rain came again and they were forgotten in the puddles
And "mamma where do the butterflies go when it rains?"
But they danced in the sun
So I chased.

And no I still don't understand.

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