The
Song
You
can hear it in the morning
brewing
in the coffee pot
As
you sit at the kitchen table at dawn
Later
in the day, when you're busy at work
You
can hear it in the rustle of papers down at the copy machine
And
though you're too involved think about it
Still,
you dance along
You
can hear it when your wife calls at noon
You
say “I was just thinking of you”
And
she says “I just thought I'd call”
You
can see it in a dogs eye
And
in the toes of a tiny kittens paw
You
can feel it in the hand of a stranger
As
he helps you up from sidewalk
After
an icy night fall
Just
as you can feel it in the smooth wooden handles
Of
old, well worn tools
You
can taste it in a freshly cooked cob of corn
Or
in the water from a hose
Out
in the yard down at the farm
It's
the nothing
That
makes everything whole
And
the something that fills the cool air
Of
empty beaches and elementary schoolyards
That
makes you want to visit
On
Sunday afternoons
Everything
that lives, everything that is
Dances
a grand dance
And
sings a grand song
Living
is music
And
the secret in life
Is
to listen for the melody
And
then sing along
If
ever you wondered at the gossip
Of
a bushy brown squirrel
Or
sat in the car with your girlfriend
Outside
the airport for two hours one afternoon
Watching
737's take off
You've
noticed for awhile
A
few of the notes in life's long song
And
felt the gentle rhythm
That
nudges and twirls us all
You'll
never know where you're going
Unless
you can tell where you've been
To
know where you are right now
You
have to learn to appreciate
The
things that are right in front of you
Dewey
Dirks
