When The Wind Is Right

I’m too tired to move myself
I’m thinking with a sigh
I lie beneath the twilight
While I eye a dying sky
And I don’t mind

Our passions are elapsing
As we pass into the night

This morning I was staring at
Some dewy blades of grass
I bent my head to block the sun
And then a dewdrop flashed
As dazzling as

A far-flung foreign star that fell
And landed in my lap

On the street I passed a man
Whose head was in his hands
He stumbled mumbling but I couldn’t
Make out what he said
And on he went

Something spinning in him had been
Twisting up his head

I asked a friend I work with
“What’s the title of our song?”
And through a rocky grin he said
“ ‘Be Strong and Play Along’—
You think I’m wrong?”

“It’s better that you get it quick
And don’t get strung along”

I’m guessing at the blessing
Of some rusty melody
I’m grabbing at the flashes
Of some ghostly poetry
What does it mean?

I think there’s something bigger
In the glimpses we see

Ever felt that you were held
In otherworldly hands?
As though your life were guided by
A slender silver strand?
Who understands

The undiscovered wonders
Of an undeluded man?

How can we get from under
Such an ugly lonely sham?
And discover all the wonders
Of an undeluded man?

Sometimes I think we might
When the wind is right

When the wind is right



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