Harvest

I knew there would be rivers to cross and hills to climb
And I was glad, for this is a fair land
And I enjoyed that

Home is the nicest word there is
And this was the happiest homecoming ever
Here, Pa said
He'd harvested a crop he didn't know he had planted
What a peculiar harvest

Learning to write was one of the hardest things
I ever hoped to do
Everything from the little house was in the wagon
Except the beds and tables and chairs
They did not need to take these
Because Pa could always build new ones

The stars and stripes were fluttering bright against the rain
Clear blue overhead
And their minds were saying the words
Before their ears heard them
Where a light can't live, I know I can't
In the West the land was level
And there were no trees
The grass grew thick and high
The wagon went down from the bluffs
Into the wooded creek bottoms
And high in a treetop
A mockingbird began to sing
"I never heard a mockingbird sing so early," said Ma
And Pa answered
"He is telling us good-bye"

On the island of Crete
I had hired a donkey
And was travelling in the mountains

How can you consider his offer?
He betrayed us once
Then he betrayed us again
And still you consider his offer
Do you have no pride?

This is not a psychotic breakdown
But a cleansing moment of clarity

Now night arrives with her purple legion
Retire now to your tents and to your dreams
Tomorrow we enter the town of my birth
I want to be ready

You created every part of me
You put me together in my mother's womb
I praise you because you are to be feared
All you do is strange and wonderful
I know it with all my heart
When my bones were being formed
Carefully put together in my mother's womb
When I was growing there in secret
You knew that I was there
You saw me before I was born
The days alloted to me
Had all been recorded in your book
Before any of them ever began