Stirring me stirring me stirring me
The things that lie sleeping inside,
Skeletons rise and soulful searching
Awaken to things once denied.
Original God, original me
I wonder where lies the connection?
So many born on the face of the earth
Looking for honest direction
We lie in our beds
With tears on our cheeks
Streaking our pillows and souls,
Fragmented fractional partial and split
So many halves, looking for wholes.
(Written in the 1980s)