The Lancean Specificity
On the Wind of a Wednesday
thinking about Joel Bratton
Wondering under the sun of a Sunday
I feel one with the sun when it speaks to my skin
And then another one to listen to the wind begin
But in the end the wind will be what carries me away
On the wind of a Wednesday another time around
And under the sun with a wonderful sound
Of the wonder of love when I rise above from under
Where I sat silently on Saturday
Like another did once in the tomb like a womb
When waiting for the sun there to speak to my skin
And listening then for the wind to begin
When that was the how what was then became now
And now is the how I must just wait and see
What the sound of the wind of a Wednesday will be
But I can tell from now it will be wonderful somehow
As above and under full of love and wonder
Under the sun I discover how to fly
On the wind of a Wednesday and into the sky
Under the sun and then into the sea
Carried back to the womb for the lack of a tomb
When the struggle is over then and I will be free
Carried by what is and does nor buried by what was or might have been
And not only to be carried to be carried as it were away
To be and not to be beyond what any day has seen
So the moon of a Monday may find it hard to see
And though the tune of a Tuesday is the existential blues day
By day my eyes adjust as must but night by night as might
And they only see love now as they open to the light
To be and not to be an any of the many one
And being lost and found to hear a wonderful sound
When the sun having spoken I transcend my skin
In token for the broken and I hear the wind begin
As the wind of a Wednesday brings me to the day of thunder
A day to span forever now a day to always be of
All the days the ever best the ever blessing of the blessed
When you will hear the singing ringing swinging down to me to bring
Me through the other side of always to the heart of everything
+Steven Curtis Lance
Copyright MMX
Wondering under the sun of a Sunday
I feel one with the sun when it speaks to my skin
And then another one to listen to the wind begin
But in the end the wind will be what carries me away
On the wind of a Wednesday another time around
And under the sun with a wonderful sound
Of the wonder of love when I rise above from under
Where I sat silently on Saturday
Like another did once in the tomb like a womb
When waiting for the sun there to speak to my skin
And listening then for the wind to begin
When that was the how what was then became now
And now is the how I must just wait and see
What the sound of the wind of a Wednesday will be
But I can tell from now it will be wonderful somehow
As above and under full of love and wonder
Under the sun I discover how to fly
On the wind of a Wednesday and into the sky
Under the sun and then into the sea
Carried back to the womb for the lack of a tomb
When the struggle is over then and I will be free
Carried by what is and does nor buried by what was or might have been
And not only to be carried to be carried as it were away
To be and not to be beyond what any day has seen
So the moon of a Monday may find it hard to see
And though the tune of a Tuesday is the existential blues day
By day my eyes adjust as must but night by night as might
And they only see love now as they open to the light
To be and not to be an any of the many one
And being lost and found to hear a wonderful sound
When the sun having spoken I transcend my skin
In token for the broken and I hear the wind begin
As the wind of a Wednesday brings me to the day of thunder
A day to span forever now a day to always be of
All the days the ever best the ever blessing of the blessed
When you will hear the singing ringing swinging down to me to bring
Me through the other side of always to the heart of everything
+Steven Curtis Lance
Copyright MMX
