Mandolins Aren't Scared of Butterflies

Describe the world to me
with adjectives that score you well on the sat
painting me colorless pictures
In ways that are courteous
telling stories of peoples' faces around me
of how they are true or false
By listening to what I haven't said
because you are watching my music play
sketching the harmony into your memory

Your words make me want to listen
because they are thoughts before speech
offering eulogies for weeping willows
Your presence always has an aroma
like someone whose close but afraid
Your hands hold things close
pulling in someone else's arms
Your arms regret the weight
pushing away someone else's heart

Your ransom won't be paid
the taxes left over from a former lover
that collect interest every day
because you are your own creditor
You are crippled
only watching the world play
as children do in a school yard
bouncing balls, picking teams, ignoring the one drawing in the sand
Making your excuses for broken bones
but they've only become figments

The Wait of Movement

Three months since I've seen you and I've met movement
Movement's a new friend, but I don't know how to  introduce you
'Cause I'm scared what you'll think.

I've got a chest full of pictures and globes
And a map that'll tell me which way to go
But I haven't
Found the right path yet.

I don't have all the answers
But I'm willing to share what I know
I don't have all the answers
But I'm willing to help you grow

I don't know what you've been reading
But you may come over and I'll share
The literature I've collected
It sits on my shelf.

I've got a garden and it grows in my backyard
I've worked and I've planted
But it's not the white picket dream
Not my dream.

I don't have all the answers
But I'm willing to share what I know
I don't have all the answers
But I'm willing to help you grow
Help you grow