Wooden heart.

This old house is really turning into a home.

Our master bedroom used to feel like a cave.  Then somehow it became purple.  I swear that the gray swatch that I picked out was NOT purple.  Oh, well.  Brian actually liked it; so I’ve tolerated this hue on my walls for about a year and a half.  Presently we have a paint color called Oyster Bar lined up for the next bedroom painting.  I’m looking forward to Oyster Bar being on my walls because it’s neutral enough to allow me to warm up the bedroom with colorful accents (a task that’s hard to do when you’re competing with Easter purple).  Take, for instance, my dresser.  For the last six years it’s been an average shade of crap brown.  Brian was kind enough to indulge my whims; so he stripped it, stained it and fixed it up so that it presently looks like a whitish-green, shipwrecked piece of furniture.  I like when furniture looks shipwrecked!  (I do not, however, like living with my entire wardrobe in grocery bags on the floor while the process gets completed.)

Speaking of shipwrecks…

Two years ago, we held our first backyard concert.  One of the bands that played that night was Listener.  That day, before the concert, Dan (singer) finished a poem that he had been working on.  That evening, between songs, he read it to the crowd – before it had ever been put to music.  It was truly touching.  And it has a shipwrecked theme.

So I wanted to share his poem with you.  Except now it’s accompanied by beautiful music, so I also wanted to share the video as well.  Enjoy!

WOODEN HEART (sea of mist called skaidan)
We’re all born to broken people on their most honest day of living
and since that first breath… We’ll need grace that we’ve never given
I’ve been haunted by standard red devils and white ghosts
and it’s not only when these eyes are closed
these lies are ropes that I tie down in my stomach,
but they hold this ship together tossed like leaves in this weather
and my dreams are sails that I point towards my true north,
stretched thin over my rib bones, and pray that it gets better
but it won’t won’t, at least I don’t believe it will…
so I’ve built a wooden heart inside this iron ship,
to sail these blood red seas and find your coasts.
don’t let these waves wash away your hopes
this war-ship is sinking, and I still believe in anchors
pulling fist fulls of rotten wood from my heart, I still believe in saviors
but I know that we are all made out of shipwrecks, every single board
washed and bound like crooked teeth on these rocky shores
so come on and let’s wash each other with tears of joy and tears of grief
and fold our lives like crashing waves and run up on this beach
come on and sew us together, tattered rags stained forever
we only have what we remember

I am the barely living son of a woman and man who barely made it
but we’re making it taped together on borrowed crutches and new starts
we all have the same holes in our hearts…
everything falls apart at the exact same time that it all comes together perfectly for the next step
but my fear is this prison… that I keep locked below the main deck
I keep a key under my pillow, it’s quiet and it’s hidden
and my hopes are weapons that I’m still learning how to use right
but they’re heavy and I’m awkward…always running out of fight
so I’ve carved a wooden heart, put it in this sinking ship
hoping it would help me float for just a few more weeks
because I am made out of shipwrecks, every twisted beam
lost and found like you and me scattered out on the sea
so come on let’s wash each other with tears of joy and tears of grief
and fold our lives like crashing waves and run up on this beach
come on and sew us together, just some tattered rags stained forever
we only have what we remember

My throat it still tastes like house fire and salt water
I wear this tide like loose skin, rock me to sea
if we hold on tight we’ll hold each other together
and not just be some fools rushing to die in our sleep
all these machines will rust I promise, but we’ll still be electric
shocking each other back to life
Your hand in mine, my fingers in your veins connected
our bones grown together inside our hands entwined, your fingers in my veins braided
our spines grown stronger in time
because our church is made out of shipwrecks
from every hull these rocks have claimed but we pick
ourselves up, and try and grow better through the change
so come on y’all and let’s wash each other with tears of joy and tears of grief
and fold our lives like crashing waves and run up on this beach
come on and sew us together, were just tattered rags stained forever
we only have what we remember