I’m my Mother’s shiny girl child when she left me here
I’m the seed of love from my Father, distant watcher; proud of my growing
My Grandmother spoke to me on the last hour of her death bed; Child don’t take money for things undone and things that should not be done.
Boy, don’t you know slippin’ creek is just a stone’s throw away.
I see you lolling behind, boy-
Slow moving and strong…
I see you there summer sweat and shadow dark.
Slippin’ creek is just a stone’s throw….
As a child, my Mother told me I had the strength for making up for people’s shortcomings.
So I took off running into the sun of summer, unveiled and barefoot to feel slippin’ creek beneath me; a lithe shadow dancing just a stone’s throw.
Boy, I see your dark shadow watching just a stone’s throw away-
I see your shadow bright, hiding in the darkest corner behind that heavy hanging door.
Slippin’ creek is waiting under summer rose moon, dark scent of purple violet and mimosa, candy sweet.
Blackbird flies swift and heavy with secrets to share over slippin’ creek.
Where shadows lie still and illusions speak-
