Waters of March

A stick, a stone
It's the end of the road

It's the rest of the stump
It's a little alone

It's a sliver of glass
It is life, it's the sun

It is night, it is death
It's a trap, it's a gun

The oak when it blooms
A fox in the brush

A knot in the wood
The song of the thrush

The wood of the wind
A cliff, a fall

A scratch, a lump
It is nothing at all

It's the wind blowing free
It's the end of a slope

It's a beam, it's a void
It's a hunch, it's a hope

And the riverbank talks
Of the water of march

It's the end of the strain
It's the joy in your heart

The foot, the ground
The flesh and the bone

The beat of the road
A slingshot stone

A fish, a flash
A silvery glow

A fight, a bet
The range of the bow

The bed of the well
The end of the line

The dismay in the face
It's a loss, it's a find

A spear, a spike
A point, a nail

A drip, a drop
The end of the tale

A truckload of bricks
In the soft morning light

The shot of a gun
In the dead of the night

A mile, a must
A thrust, a bump

It's a girl, it's a rhyme
It's the cold, it's the mumps

The plan of the house
The body in bed

And the car that got stuck
It's the mud, it's the mud

A float, a drift
A flight, a wing

A hawk, a quail
The promise of spring

And the riverbanks talks
Of the waters of March

It's the promise of life
It's the joy in your heart

A snake, a stick
It is John, it is Joe

It's a thorn in your hand
And the cut on your toe

A point, a grain
A bee, a bite

A blink, a buzzard
The sudden stroke of night

A pin, a needle
A sting, a pain

A snail, a riddle
A wasp, a sting

A pass in the mountains
A horse and a mule

In the distance the shelves
Rode three shadows of blue

And the riverbank talks
Of the water of March

It's the promise of life
In your heart, in your heart

A stick, a stone
The end of the road

The rest of the stump
A lonesome road

A sliver of glass
Alive the sun

A night, a death
The end of the run

And the riverbank talks
Of the waters of March

It's the end of all strain
It's the joy in your heart