hey you, get a grip

the crooked boards feel like home on these tender feet.

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it's been a winter for the books,
what i'm really saying is (jesus, get to the point)
it's been far too long.

i'm ready to walk face first into the sun

-one two unbuckle my shoes and
let me step out onto the stones
warmed by promise and breath;

gash the soles of my feet on hope and
let me hold my warm blood in these hands
cracked open and ready to heal.

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this arrow has lived forever
rolled up in a ball of mud
created by me, for me.

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These fields break my heart -
reminds me of days with dads
and counting phone poles
for fun.

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