SOMEWHERE STILL RINGING

Imaginary Garden With Real Toads

He believed
with unswerving conviction
that in a world teeming with souls
surely there'd  be one
just tailor made for him
and that when he found her
the one to share it with
his life would begin for real

And yes there were some
who lingered for a time
but they came and went
like blips on a radar screen
another case of mistaken identity

And all he could do
when each ship of love
crashed and burned
was look away from the carnage
(for he was good at looking away)
and turn to face the bright sun of tomorrow
that surely loomed just around the bend

He did this in the spring
He did this in the summer
He did this in the autumn
With the last leaf still clinging
and somewhere still ringing
was the sound of her voice
calling from the hill

And they would rush
to each other
and his life would begin for real
no more holding back
for lack of inspiration
and he would do all the things
he had no penchant for doing
alone

For only with a sense of purpose
does life begin in earnest
and with each passing day
he knows now for sure
that purpose is her
the one who will stay

Come down in time
he whispers
come down in time
for he knows that time
is slipping away...

And he read the other day
nearly seven billion souls
on this bright blue ball of confusion
whirling in space
and he figures some wires
must have got crossed
and some bridges didn't
and he can't help but wonder
why it's still such a lonely lonely world