12-21-2019, 04:15 AM
I’m always saying it doesn’t fit,
this funny old world and me,
always one second out of sync,
always crashing through life
like an elephant in the corn.
I keep saying I want fly away
to some place magical and wild.
This world’s too real, too full of cracks,
too full of hours that drag like years,
and days that disappear too soon.
But then, a sunset paints the sky with fire,
the mighty ocean hurls itself upon a shore,
winter’s gorgeous snowy death takes my breath,
then spring throws flowers on every path,
and I concede this world has magic enough for me.
this funny old world and me,
always one second out of sync,
always crashing through life
like an elephant in the corn.
I keep saying I want fly away
to some place magical and wild.
This world’s too real, too full of cracks,
too full of hours that drag like years,
and days that disappear too soon.
But then, a sunset paints the sky with fire,
the mighty ocean hurls itself upon a shore,
winter’s gorgeous snowy death takes my breath,
then spring throws flowers on every path,
and I concede this world has magic enough for me.
The Soufflé isn’t the soufflé; the soufflé is the recipe. --Clara