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THE PROMONTORY (The Point Judith Suite)

on the undulant carousel
where the foaming white stallion is cantering, toward his bride
nosing forward impassively
to be grounded in patient obscurity, come the tide
from a phrase of divinity
to conjunctions of timeless reality
here i ride, here i ride, here i ride

and on the promontory fishermen are gathering
casting lines to barter for sustenance
knowing not what their wage is for idling away
such a momentary day
in the everlasting infinite immeasurable continuum of time

far above these frivolities
through the cross-winds beyond such idolatries
i will glide, i will glide, i will glide

la la, la-la, la, la-la la, la-la, la-la-la, la, la

aloft, one's reflection escapes one's shadow
and changes direction toward eternity
aloft, one's reflection escapes one's shadow
and changes direction toward eternity

aloft, one's reflection escapes one's shadow
and changes direction toward eternity
aloft, one's reflection escapes one's shadow
and changes direction toward eternity

a-loft, one's re-flec-tion es-capes one's sha-dow
and chan-ges di-rec-tion toward e-ter-ni-ty

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Copyright ©2004 Ryeside Music (BMI)