also see Names - Reprised
-
Christ can carry his own damn self
he certainly does not need my portage
he can walk on water,
he was a man first,
then god  raised him up,
cast him down,
and raised him up again
.
The Satyr plays in the hills
in the only church i recognize
reed pipes a skirling call
of the moors and highlands
that calls me home
to a place i have never been
to a place i will never see
.
I am an unstable rock
on which to build a house or church
diminished healer - impotent
lashing my soul
to those women that have pain
trying to absorb it , absolve it
and make them whole
.
I have no true name
to make me vulnerable
in the ways of the old traditions
i have squandered my soul
saving a young loves life
and been cast off
t'was all worth it
.
reviving my heart from long sleep
you gave me my voice back
wakened me to my self
and cast me adrift
when hope or anger
t'was too much to bear
would i had ever held you in my arms
.
home is on the mountains or the plains
thousand and a half from here
places i am unwelcome
or been forced to abandon
it is not this floodplain
this place has no claim to my soul
would i could roam this wide wide world 
.