Songwriting confidential #57

SONGWRITING CONFIDENTIAL 57.

I am in the rafters that flurry up under the eves,.the disturbance in the attic,. the low flying white thing out there skimming the waves !!, thats me,.I'm the tall cloud falling off the mountain battering everything with rain and wind,.swirling over the churches , balustrades and portico's, upsetting the woman selling shawls and porridges smoking in her rubber Croc's on the hot stones,.the confetti looping around sad parades billowing out of the turrets,.thats me wearing the conical hat peering around those dreary drawbridges and escalades..I have been in millions of wreck's and demolitions from chariots to ox carts on narrow ledges to race cars and plummeting planes,.surviving always in a top hat and tux with tapping shoes and flying white scarf's,.I'm the sand grain unnoticed in silent forgotten dunes for eons under deathly sweltering stars,.but somehow,.somehow, always forging out of the tree line,.cascading over the precipice,.narrowly escaping hostile head hungry natives shaking spears and howling on the river bank,.emerging not as a gladiator, but as something unearthly,.incandescent,. not delivering crushing blows,.but shape changing that rearranges landscapes mysteriously and unnoticed,.I will not alter my tactics,.wont parlay my gifts for sacks of loot,.I am a solid fixture,..always permanent ,.never one to be the shifty character who took under the table payoff's in a hail of bullets and blood,.I'm an ancient totem covered in vegetation in a humid rain forest casting spells and humming unheard melodies from lost angelic tribes..I'm a guitar propped in the corner of a mud hut waiting to be played by the contessa out there in the chaparral on her knees murmuring omens, her head wrap blustering in the desert whorls, Aren’t You ???.