The hill was high.

A song from a dream I had in which there were two hills- one that was really steep and I thought, well MAYBE I can climb that, but on top of that there was yet another hill that was practically straight up and down, and I knew climbing it would be impossible. But it looked so beautiful.

The hill was high, I couldn’t climb
though I knew you were there.
A world of green surrounded me
it stretched out everywhere.

So I got back in my car and drove
to try and find a home.
I thought of you, the whole way through
it made me feel alone.

I thought of you and of the field
with the hill that was so high.
A temple built to something
that lives only in the sky

Everything is always high
and always far away.
I tell myself I must never stop and
I will get there someday.

Many gods and many men
have lived upon a crest.
Though the clouds pass over all of them
it is you I like the best.

All these hills and all these gods
and each man has his own.
Except for me, a tiny breeze
still searching for a home.

A tiny breeze who when she flies
is cut down by the winds.
They slice my heart and splay it
like a butterfly and then

Then I can scale these hills, but even so
my shadow looms so small
that to you it was just the same as though
I was never there at all.

Big men shadow over me
there is no other way
than to watch them with admiring eyes
through a film of gray.

For me there can be no other way for me
than to lie back on the ground
and to let the dreams wash over me
until a home is found.

A home that could be anywhere,
a home so hard to find.
Oh God, but please let it be somewhere real
not somewhere in my mind.

Someplace real, someplace strong
mountainous and grave
nothing flimsy like a butterfly
with her wings upon your leg.

Everyone has gods upon
these hills where claddows* fly.
Except for me, I have only you
and only in my mind.

I reached for you, but there was no use
the world was large and green.
It stretched out wide and endlessly
like the sky within a dream.

And who am I, but a dot so small
that no one else could see
as you passed me by invisibly
your shadow touching me?

As you passed me by just like a plant
pressed flat upon the ground
just a thing too small to be cared about
when hills are all around.

* A claddow is a cloud shadow.

Download MP3: The Hill Was High

Me, in my favorite activity, going for a car ride. Unfortunately, I don’t have a license, so car rides are a luxury. If I did have one, I would drive all day long. All my dreams include a segment where I am driving without a license & start to panic that the cops will pull me over.

2 Replies to “The hill was high.”

  1. This is a gift to us all, whether you meant it to be or not, I am a lover of words and music, especially when a story is being told, and you indeed have many stories to tell.

    When I closed my eyes I could actually see you on that makeshift stage in the middle of that large farm in upstate NY multiple generations ago.

    With your songwriting ability you have it in your power to create a song which will UNITE us all and at the same time, a song which will live throughout time.

    Did you really think President Lincoln possessed a deep love for Blacks, but he looked past his belief for the good of his Country.

    When I was a young child I witnessed my mother getting shot in the head in the middle of the night, I could have used the incident to become an angry person but I chose to right then and there to go in the opposite direction and this particular act is where my love for you and all God’s people originated.

    Now you know more about me than most and by the way, my love for God came because of a deal I made to the Lord to spare my mom, as blood spurted from the hole in her head, my mom will be 75 years young 3 days after the holiest day in God’s history.

    1. Wow, Gary, that is an intense story. Thank you for telling me. I am glad that you made a deal with God and that he saved your mother. Now you are doing God’s work.

      Please tell me more about this farm in upstate NY. That sounds beautiful.

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