Rest is not idleness I can't rely on this Rut between waking and walk. Just waiting in wingspan Too waxen to see that My form follows function But I was followed to my home By the bluebird that carries The sky on it's back Seeking spring in succession Just to tell my winter bones: I see sage in your hands And all your curves sigh like sand But where there's driftwood there's land Where you're driftwood I'm land Rest is not idleness You can't rely on this Rut between waking and walk. Sleeping through the stillness of An autumn contour All of it was made for play. Lackadaisical you seem Caught in between two thrones Draped in blankets They're for comfort not for warmth And these forts that you call idols Are sitting idle in the past Small talk is not my forte But I'll speak about the weather for a change Cause I feel spring and better days.