I was sick to soul and short on sleep,
tired of the company of the company I keep,
weary of the watcher in the glass
who stares back from the storefronts as I pass..

someone saved a shapeless Saturday,
she’s a little lighthouse on the way,
that’s another gift I can’t repay,
& the giver doesn’t even know she gave

+++ the facts of beauty, you can’t refute them,
+++ it’s not our duty to dispute them,
+++ when we wonder if there’s good left in us,
+++ the facts of beauty, they will convince us..

I drove home through the country Easter morn,
past churches filled to greet the risen Lord,
by the old barns tired enough to fall,
Springtime colors muted in the fog..

she’s a little lighthouse on the way,
sent to save another shapeless day,
someone must be looking out for me,
‘cause when I’m sick to soul and half-asleep,

+++ the facts of beauty, I can’t refute them,
+++ and only fools try to dispute them,
+++ when we wonder if there’s good left in us,
+++ the facts of beauty, they will convince us..
+++ and if you wonder if there’s good left in you,
+++ the facts of beauty, they will convince you..