Craig Froman Quotes

This morning I breathe iced air,
and wander toward the waves.
For a moment I live without care;
a moment all my heart craves.

I roamed alone;
O, barren dreams.
My echoed voice,
what lonely comfort.
Here is my salvation:
I hear the triumph drum;
the rhythm of the rising,
the long-awaited sun.

If only I had feathered wings,
that could bend and curve and reach,
beyond imagined dreams,
unhindered by the weight of earth.

Playful footsteps, a child's footsteps
dance over mud and mire.
What seems a horror to eyes of age,
brings joy to a child's fire.

I am a waning bird
encased in a glass sphere;
I cannot see my prison,
and my cries no one can hear.

The winged beasts and angels know, that mortals cannot fly.
But how I flew to see the sun; a broken bird am I.

A pebble thrown in a pool
may ripple from end to end,
but tossed into the sea,
it is swallowed by enormity.

O, the sorrow of us all,
to wander the earth in a shell.
And looking to the heavens,
we lay to rest in hell.
The suffering of the innocent
in the midst of Jacob's well.
How the miles fled between us,
and that distance is still great.
Though on the same shore we now sit,
in temporal quietude to wait.
The moon is our bright witness;
it will lead us to the gate.

I walk the sand alone,
and feel it stirring as I roam,
upon this breathing earth,
where wave on wave begins new birth.
I sense a grand facade,
where colors paint the hand of God.
And in remorseful pain,
I dance the stones of bitter strain.

To your simple existence, do not boast;
merely to breathe or move or think is not to live.
The shore of the sea is but a ghost,
compared to the depth its wholeness gives.
You exist in the miry foam;
make the ocean depths your home.

Deep blackness waits outside;
a veiled inferno it attempts to hide.
We see no more than dark clouds growing,
but set inside, a fire is glowing.

But with what wonder has the season come?
Its treasure lies in earthen ships,
that carry dreams across the foam.
And how your memory of Sarah rapes
the fleshly heart that once bore scenes,
now veiled in smoky stains of tears;
it cries as on its crutches leans,
and ever fills itself with fears.
Be born anew to taste the sky
Lay waste cocoon and upwind fly.