Does it feel alright in the early light?
Do you feel brand new or is your game uptight?
Is there fire in your belly, do you rise like a dozen?
Did you lose the spark, is it flat and sudden?
Does it burst at the seams when you think on your dreams?
Did you trip and fall when it wasn’t what it seems?
Was your voice dampened by the blanket of snow?
Did you plant the bulbs that are buried below?
Does the work that you do, really see you through?
Does it hit the bark and burn up the dew?
Is it honed by the stone, honest and true?
Is it dull and blunt and all askew?
When it cuts through your coat, and bites your cheek
In winters half-light, the way it did on your street
Does it take you back, get you back on track?
Does it come from your kin, all the feelings within?
When it lights up a face, does it fill you with grace?
By the globe lamplight, where we said goodnight
Do they fill you up and pull you through?
Childlike and free, along the avenue
Still I’ll promenade now, down to the white horse
Past the pines in portland, to where its gale force
In sheets of rain, here it comes again
Never lets me down, never lets me frown
And when it tucks in behind, and stretches out
Where it comes in on time and leaves no doubt
Where silhouettes skim, for home in a note
Caught in the twilight, by the working boat
So when you put it to bed
Never mind what they said
Just keep making hay, and then you just might
For another turn beckons in the early light