For My Two Young Friends

The thin horizon of a plan is almost clear.
My friends and I have had a tough time
bruising our brains hard up against change.
All the old dogs and the magician.

Now I see we’re in the boat in two by twos,
only the heart that we have
for a tool we could use.
And the very close quarters
are hard to get used to.
Love weighs the hull down with its weight.

But the wood is tired and the wood is old
and we’ll make it fine if the weather holds.
But if the weather holds
we’ll have missed the point
that’s where I need to go.

No way construction of this tricky plan
was built by other than a greater hand
with a love that passes all our understanding
watching closely over the journey.

Yeah, but what it takes to cross the great divide
seems more than all the courage
I can muster up inside.
Although we get to have some answers
when we reach the other side,
the prize is always worth the rocky ride.

But the wood is tired and the wood is old
and we’ll make it fine if the weather holds.
But if the weather holds
we’ll have missed the point
that’s where I need to go.

Sometimes I ask to sneak a closer look,
skip to the final chapter of the book.
And then maybe steer us clear
from some of the pain that it took
to get us where we are this far.

But the question drowns in its futility
and even I have got to laugh at me.
No one gets to miss the storm of what will be
just holding on for the ride.

But the wood is tired and the wood is old
and we’ll make it fine if the weather holds.
But if the weather holds
we’ll have missed the point
that’s where I need to go.

~ Wood Song, Indigo Girls

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