You Put His Brain In A Bird,

Back In The Autumn I Had Awakened To A Growing Darkness And Cacophony, As If Something In The Depths Were Crying Out. A Whole Chorus Of Voices. Orphaned Voices. They Seemed To Speak For All The Unlived Parts Of Me, And They Came With A Force And Dazzle That I Couldn't Contain. They Seemed To Explode The Boundaries Of My Existence. I Know Now That They Were The Clamor Of A New Self Struggling To Be Born.

Place A Beehive On My Grave And Let The Honey Soak Through. When I'm Dead And Gone, That's What I Want From You. The Streets Of Heaven Are Gold And Sunny, But I'll Stick With My Plot And A Pot Of Honey. Place A Beehive On My Grave And Let The Honey Soak Through.

The Awakening Passed From Simple Recognition Of My Need For God At The Center Of My Life, To A Depth Where The Will Is Stirred And That Is A Deeper Place By Far. That Is The Place Of Response, Of Unifying One's Heart, Mind, Soul And Feet Around A Decision.

Nobody Around Here Had Ever Seen A Lady Beekeeper Till Her. She Liked To Tell Everybody That Women Made The Best Beekeepers, 'cause They Have A Special Ability Built Into Them To Love Creatures That Sting. It Comes From Years Of Loving Children And Husbands.

You Think You Want To Know Something, And Then Once You Do, All You Can Think About Is Erasing It From Your Mind.