Blueberry Dream

Went berry picking with mother, in the summer;
She told me, pick the ones that are bright and ripe and juicy.

But I wondered, should we pick the berries
From behind the brambles, too?

And pick the ones that dropped
Up off the ground?

She said, the faded ones,
The rain doesn't reach,

And there are some you shouldn't pick
Like ones from dying trees.

But I thought, if not, they'll hide
And wither with the weather.

So, I went back and popped
A lonely blueberry into my bucket.

Said, the sweetest one mightn't be as blue
As the brightest berry according to you.

Should we try to re-enact
What we now lack?

The common sense of how to lose
By pick and choose.

Don't judge;
There might be a dream you walk into.

I'd say I knew you better than the fall
And sometimes we say sorry, but
When do we really mean it at all?

When your heated heart of rock explodes,
In your erupting mode, Kilauea,
You're eroding me.

When you're joy's in exhaustion
When your ploys can't be deployed
When you're seven miles from Heaven
And you can't gain exposure

Am I sound? Are you sound? Are you around?

As we're tumbling down these lava walls of yours.

Reassessment

Well, have you lost the sacred
As you try to reassess?
I know you mean to mend the madness,
But you're bringing back the dead.

They've gone out of town,
They passed yesteryear,
And have traveled light years
Just to end up back here.

Let's demean our demons;
God, let's get out of here,
And make a masterpiece
If the Magdalene agrees.