27 March 2024

Good to be a fool

I may be a fool, but I believe there is good in this life
That there is kindness, there is hope, and reasons to kind through the strife
For it's only by believing in things that seem unlikely or bizarre
That I can even believe a heart can heal from its scar

I believe that tomorrow will always fight through the hardest today
That the moon and the Sun will dance across the Milky Way
I stupidly hope you will always be there to see it with me
If you feel like you're falling off the Earth, we can hold hands if need be

It isn't always easy to be a hopeful presence
It can be a sad world, hard for such ideas to survive
To be a fool in spite of evidence?
To keep believing, keep the faith alive?

I will do it alone. But why not be foolish with me?
Let's keep believing in a better world in spite of what we see
Let's light up a path to see where it will lead
Let's be naïve together, taking turns if we need

13 March 2024

What inspires

we don't choose what inspires us
and I have been inspired by some very dumb things
but I still love them
I love the insight that dumb things can bring

it will inspire an idea of which I'm genuinely proud
and I'll share that idea in a conversational crowd
people can enjoy it and I just sit there in fear
that they'll ask me what inspires this great idea

and I have to say it was an Adam Sandler movie

there's a reason "high art" makes us pause and reflect
but I feel "low art" gets too much disrespect
it's talented in itself for hitting a spot to help us relax
even if it doesn't charge our brains the biggest tax

but humans are curious, I love that about those beings
and we are maybe too predisposed to thoughts and feelings
embrace it, share it, if possible without remorse
love the inspiration you found in an unlikely source

6 March 2024

springtime in York

December was long this year

it seemed to last til May

coldness cut the stone

the temperature was grey


shadows appear deeper

walls seem to shiver

grass resists each step

do not trust the river


When the daffodils sprout 

winter melts away

the yellow on the hill

marks a special day


morning has slowly come

the birds begin to sing

colour is no longer hidden

York has entered spring