Folk music concert draws a crowd, some new and familiar faces
Seen both in the audience and also in the band
Old time tunes brought to life, different folks in different places
The fiddler’s riffs hearken back unto the land
The times and songs that these musicians all carry in their heads
Must give their worlds such different focus
Slower, sweeter, yet maybe just one blanket on their narrow beds
Less modern legerdemain, tech hocus pocus
Sitting here, eyes close, breathing deeply, and feeling oh so mellow
Feet and hands tap out the rhythms unaware
Banjo plucked, guitar strummed, fiddle bowed, equal any violin, cello
Connections, our roots remembered, so we care
From our first squall of angry exultation, until we’re old and done
Secret tunes fill our world, change every day alive
Pianissimo and crescendo till we wake up and find our body’s gone
Hard to ignore the crashing cymbals, as we strive
See no reason not to join, follow the parade, till we stop, step back
Our breath to catch or our heels to click
Perceiving more, to understand we cannot miss what we didn’t lack
Yet we alone decide which path we’ll pick
Let’s not all choose the same, we would be in such a crowded spot
Yet each may bring some unto the other
Until we mix and mingle what we believe and all that we have got
Brother helping sister, sister helping brother
Understanding finally, though we’re not related, we are one family
War forgotten; we see ourselves in other’s eyes
No labels, affiliations linger from our callously created catastrophe
Sailing in the same boat; sink it and everyone dies
Yes, in time, we will all cease, perhaps reach some hallowed shore
Such confusion if we all arrive together
No coffin makers left behind to pursue this, their most sacred chore
Such bedlam may deny you regions nether
Racing down life’s paths, we may simply miss the “bridge out” sign
We must lead, follow, or get out of the way
This will surly cost us more than a heavy penalty or usurious fine
Wisely pick your path and go, all I want to say
