Meditation Song
© Andrew Calhoun, recorded on Shadow of a Wing
Way up in the clouds, there's no resistance,
Viewing the ground from a frightening distance;
Removed from the struggle, feel your existence
Fade from the clutch of the close and curious,
And from your own reason for being so furious.
Up where the rolling wheel is one with the word,
Above the roar of the crowd, hear the song of the bird.
I'll show you something I learned from a pentagon;
The five-finger trick, and the ten hour marathon;
The fifty-yard dash, and the hundred mile stretch beyond;
Take it all easy, and sweet and slow,
When you get where you're going, there'll be someplace else to go.
Up where the rolling wheel is one with the word,
Above the roar of the crowd, hear the song of the bird.
Here it is baby, come find your balance;
Stay with the secret you stole from the palace,
Of plumbless darkness, and blinding brilliance;
Far past your own gossip, and all who would enter,
Welcome each circler, and daily dissenter.
Up where the rolling wheel is one with the word,
Above the roar of the crowd, hear the song of the bird.