From the recording Song Like A Seed
To my childhood home. “It’s like 108 was a member of the family, our third parent,” my sisters and I mused, as we sat on her front porch that final summer.
Lyrics
108
You’re up early, you’re up late
Your eyes are windows, 108
Looking out, looking in, looking through
I will sit here for a while
On the front steps of your smile
Morning coffee, evening dreams
Sift and swing
You are wood and you are stone
You are hinges, you are home
And the kitchen is the beating of your heart
Your ears, the papered walls that hold
All the stories told, untold
Of growing up, growing old, growing in
I’ve traveled miles to here and there
Up and down your carpet stairs
Out the backdoor running free
Dance of flowers, song of trees
Ringing laughter in the yard
Rains of sorrow, soft and hard
And you never speak a word
But your voice is always heard
Welcome in, welcome back
Welcome home
From the attic to your toes
You are mystery and prose
And dirty dishes, muddy shoes
Knocks on the door
And I don’t know what to say
To give you thanks in some small way
But you have always known the meaning of a song
So I will sing this offering
Come the winter, come the spring
Come the summer and the changes autumn brings
I may say goodbye, old friend
But you are with me ‘til the end
Looking out, looking in, looking through
You’re up early, you’re up late
Your eyes are windows, 108
© 2019 Sara Thomsen