Water Under The Bridge. A Song.

Last night, my friend texted me out of the blue, and asked if I’d ever thought about writing songs, you know, being a songwriter.

I feel like I already do, every day. The question is whether my words are worthy of a tune, worthy of being vocalized, and then, I remember my ego has no place in this decision —  All words are worthy of a song.

Poetry is equivalent to waking up in the morning with wild hair, mascara smudged, crinkled pajamas, and crinkled sleep lines on my cheek to match. Amidst the mess — the rogue strands of hair and black goop that’s been rearranged in fits of unconscious bliss, I recognize that I’m at my tallest, the longest, and the most relaxed I will be all day. I’m real. Myself with no definition, no filter, no censor, no guard. That’s poetry, and to judge it, is to reject nature, which I refuse to do.

So, John, my friend, this is what I scribbled down this morning. Messy and real. ~Rebecca

 

Water Under the Bridge.

My life is water under the bridge

A car, one house, two kids

All I’ve ever wanted

Settled in my bones, 

See? I’m good alone

But, don’t you worry

This is just the beginning of my story

I wonder, what if?

When things don’t jive with my riff

I wish they would

Don’t judge the chords

That’s like stealing  from the greater good, the lord

When we trust in fate

Our worlds collide

The tone, love and hate make

Stimulating the harmony that’s innate

Together we create

The disasters and the dreams

We forget the power of this life

As it flows away from what it seems.

My life is water under the bridge

A car, one house, two kids

All I’ve ever wanted

Settled in my bones, 

See? I’m good alone

But, don’t you worry

This is just the beginning of my story

I’ll keep doing my job creatin’

Being soulful and mistaken

Thinkin’ I can control the cause,

The purpose, the motive, and the pause

I can’t though, this I know

Just like water can’t be stopped

Unless it’s blocked

Only for a time

Cause it builds and builds

Just like this rhyme

And then, it breaks free of all hypocrisy

That’s when it dances away,

Under my feet and out to sea

Just where I hope to be

Going in my own direction

Escaping the confines of existence 

Cause chasing the horizon is what I’m supposed to do

Will I get there?

I don’t know, do you?

That’s up to my soul’s pursuit

My life is water under the bridge

A car, one house, two kids

All I’ve ever wanted

Settled in my bones, 

See? I’m good alone

But, don’t you worry

This is just the beginning of my story.

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