The Garden Wheel

Now every stone has a face
Every leaf, there's a bead of sweat
That drops it's embrace the day that I left
The day that we met, a story you loved
And life isn't mine
For a time, it was mine

At peace, in the place where we slept
Without anger, without language, lately
But now it's rising in me like a fiend and I feed
At least, I feel what I need, isn't proof
But some truth of the story, maybe

Of how we worked to till the soil
Until the labor all but spoiled
How we worked the earth so much it turned to dust
How am I supposed to feel?

When the robins steal from the cardinals in the garden
Turn the autumn wheel
It's how we're supposed to feel
When the onions peel
And the harvest was the hardest in the garden

I dream of the roads that we'd weave in the winter
Through fields, all covered in stones
That would dance when the night came calling
And the quarry of things and the ring
That went laughing down there
Was it the first missing thing, that we'll never see?
Until they find him

And how I searched upon the shore
Until my knees were red and sore
Because I feared the rest of us would start to rust

How am I supposed to feel?
When the robins steal from the cardinals in the garden
Turn the autumn wheel
It's how it's supposed to feel
When the onions peel
'Cause the harvest was the hardest in the garden