How to hold a hand a hundred miles shifted?
A thought for friend a river's length away?
Pressing keys into a pad until a weight is lifted,
Shouting miss you's and melodies far from today.
I wrote the words I hoped they'd want to hear,
Made the comments thought they'd laugh to see.
There is no red van to rip the horizon,
No highways paved in heartfelt reason.
This charade is the play it's always been,
A way to conceive that distance won't win.
Music once hit me through waves of warm wind
But the air in between us now spread too thin
It's up to the wires linking man with machine
To play me the memories of a crowded scene.
I'll take those notes and once live verses,
I'll sew their seams with wishful thinking.
I'm far from the people yet near to the hope
That life will explode into more than I know.
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