If there's a way to say I'm sorry
Perhaps I'll stay another evening beside your door
And watch the moon rise inside your window
Where jewels are falling, and flowers weeping, and strangers laughing
Because you're grieving that I have gone.
And if I don't know why I'm going
Perhaps I'll wait beside the pathway where no-one's coming
And count the questions I turned away from, or closed my eyes to
Or had no time for, or passed right over
Because the answers would shame my pride.
I've heard them say the word forever
But I don't know if words have meaning when they are promised
In fear of losing what can't be borrowed
Or lent in blindness, or blessed by pageantry, or sold by preachers
While you're still walking your separate way.
Sometimes we bind ourselves together
And seldom know the harm in binding the only feeling that cries for freedom
And needs unfolding and understanding
And time for holding a simple mirror
The one reflection to call your own.
If there's an end to all our dreaming
Perhaps I'll go while you're still standing beside your door
And I'll remember your hands enfolding a bowl of moonstones
A lamp of childhood, a robe of roses
Because your sorrows were still unborn.