Mend

This is how I spent my youth: Staring at the ground And sometimes up at the sky Through feigned New England trees That seemed as grand as these Wide-eyed wide eyes This is where my heart begins Western sun has all but gone Down behind the mountain In our town we walk around So quiet I can hear Our words etched in the air Clean lines will clean lines This is where my heart begins to mend Some things lost Some things gained Each time you go Each time you change It has to be a choice you make A baby cries a cardinal call Wings upon the air Piano rill, a childhood song A boy as young as spring Ever lingering Still I'm Still mine This is where my heart begins This is where my heart begins This is where my heart begins to mend.

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Painting by Chagall

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