Alameda Highway

Your whispered words stay in my mind
Like tracks of birds across the sky
A motion through an empty space
leaving trails of love
But I don't yet live in that empty sky
and I've never seen your face
Though my mind remembers you
And this life is just a memory still unfolding,
Like driving down the Alameda highway
past the white sands exit,
And your hand which glanced
across my cheek
Your touch an autumn not yet come
In the place where summer will meet the winter
On its way to the newer spring
But I can't quite see you and I don't yet live
in the place where you will be,
in that autumn's colored evening
But still my mind has recollections
of moments
not yet come.
And my door is open,
an invitation
my door is an invitation
waiting for you to arrive
my door is an invitation
But I don't yet live in the house where that door is,
It was always hard to barter
with the meaning of your glances,
Their echos bleeding through my brain,
And I live my life as invitation
waiting for you to arrive
I still remember
your photo on my bedside table
The sound of laughter on that day,
But I don't yet live in the house where that bed is.
Oh, my life is an invitation but I don't yet have an address
I've hunted for the car keys but I don't yet own the car,
Your hands so delicate they breathe,
your touch can bring the future
And I'm adrift amongst these moments
in this blueness of your love
Waiting, waiting, waiting for the springtime.
And this life is just a memory still unfolding,
Like driving down the Alameda highway past the white sands exit,
And your hand which glanced across my cheek
your touch an autumn not yet come
In the place where summer will meet the winter
on its way to the newer spring
And though I can't yet see you I know that you remain