folklore boy

have you heard the wind in the grass,
the crackle of hot madrona bark,
what long sad trains have to say,
the appalachian autumn fog,
the stringy lament of the salt of the earth?
listen now to his elemental coal, his mine
of simple sorrow and profound joy,
to this singing history book, from sea
to shining sea.

he sings in harmony with this modern day
and days gone by. whiskey and
dilapidated porches, shotguns and
railroads, unions and rusty tools; these
all live through his hands plowing
the land.

he is here to remind us, life is a story,
it has no beginning and no end. to
understand the entire story, you must know
where you are in the song. otherwise,
there is no song, no notes, no scales
to weigh your importance, no keys
with which to unlock the future.

therefore, he sings and tells us a story,
and we listen, because we need this
knowledge of who we were, who we are,
and where we need to go.