1. |
Grasp Your Trials
06:26
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There was big and small before the fall.
Now there are only stories…
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Well hold on tight to yours and what you’ve been given,
not simply truth; that which you believe
Clutch it close now, no pearls here; disconcerting
Eyes open unwaveringly
Grab your trials and hold your tribulations
Grasp your trials and don’t let go
Grab your trials and hold your tribulations
Grasp your child and don’t let go
We’re seeing what we’re seeing
We’re feeling what we’re feeling
Clutch it close the gift you’ve been given
Break your chains don’t ever give in
Never change, capitulate, at all
We’re seeing what we’re seeing
We’re feeling what we’re feeling
Hold On
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2. |
After the Big Wave
06:58
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It's not the sun that wakes you up here,
it's the heat.
It starts to itch and cling to you.
The mosquitos hum.
The sunlight flares through the glass skylight,
and the backs of your eyelids shift
from black to sun-soaked red.
Sleep is impossible once our blazing star,
that greatest friend and foe of life here on Earth,
has taken its seat at the high table;
hanging overhead like the watchful eye of God,
surveying the scene from above.
The air smells fresh, and clean, and bright
as it rolls off the waves.
"You lived through the wave.
You know we're all going to die, big or small,
and them too.
All of us, sooner or later, get our bell rung.
This one here...his number's up."
They flung the crab shells out the window,
and watched the birds fight and tear them to bits,
carrying off their mangled prizes to feast among the rocks.
The sun dropped slowly
towards the Western Front,
Manu left for home,
and Keela slept hard that night,
and dreamed of the tiny crabs
crushed in the roiling chaos
of the big, blue wave that fell
down, down, down
and crashed onto the rocks.
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3. |
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The tiny, spiny little monsters crawled out from the darkness
And into the snare of tantalizing treats laid out before them
In a final, gruesome meal
Before the hunters became the hunted
Keela was too practiced a hand to be thwarted by impatience
She was a child of the water
Raised up in joy and beaten down by her mother ocean
She knew well the value of choosing wisely the perfect moment to strike
Sure enough, when she closed her eyes and pulled on the string,
The added weight on the end was evident
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4. |
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5. |
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When I was growing up in the lush, green valleys of California, we never went hungry.
Not once during my youth of plenty did I or my sister ever set down to an empty plate on a table.
We grew tomatoes in the backyard and picked sticky handfuls of wild blackberries that stained our hands and shirts dark red.
The landscape was green and lush,
and when gray storm clouds rumbled loudly overhead, the sky would grow thick and wet with rain.
Perhaps my view is slightly tinted by rosy nostalgia, but it seems we practically lived outdoors back then - climbing gnarled trees in the backyard and scooping unfortunate caterpillars into jars.
We were children of the forest,
without ever knowing any different way to be.
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6. |
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It was a charmed life.
Beautiful.
And I, for one, believed with all my heart
that's how things had always been.
And that is, of course, how they would always be.
How could I have known at such a tender, young age that the budding green landscape into which I was born was nothing
but an oasis in the haze;
a shimmering fantasy
in the depths of the desert;
a temporary living dream
and nothing more?
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7. |
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JAGALCHI Goshen, Indiana
Riffs, Post Rock, Soju!
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