|
You grew up on a red dirt road, where it never rained or snowed. The air was thin and things were rough, you never had enough. Rocks and dust were all you knew, and silent canyons, too. The riverbed's vermillion dust, the sky a burning blue. But I was born 'neath a twinkling star to a melody one night, in a garden thick with jasmine and a moon like lantern light. There I lay beside a river, beneath a cherry tree, and all at once I dreamed you, you wouldn't let me be. And when our worlds collided, the sparks and fire flew. I think we both agreed there was nothing we could do. Now we lie beneath the same tree, and all the years have passed, and gaze into the night sky at a planet's reddish cast. And it seems to be like light years since that lonely red dirt road, and the rocky path we traveled to the place we now call home. (Elana Fremerman, c. 2002 Osage Music / Calhoun Street Music (BMI)) |