A Root's Grave Is Above Ground
Sowing Wisdom: A Harvest of Life's Echoes
Lyrics
Each year my hands look more like my father’s
Reflecting on physical resemblance to the speaker's father over time.
Scars of a yesterday, but palms up to tomorrows
Bearing the scars of the past but remaining optimistic for the future.
Knuckles dug in rusted earth to loose the saplings
Hands involved in cultivating growth, facing challenges in nurturing new beginnings.
Follow hollows to the trunks and wrap my arms around the sorrow
Exploring the depths of emotional pain, symbolized by trees, seeking solace.
And the seeds that I will sow slow as the earth turns will be
Slow progression of the speaker's actions and intentions over time.
The snares that strip the ankles, trip to hide me from the half-truths
Anticipating obstacles and deception in the journey, emphasizing half-truths.
The garden, hard and soft, holding me, older than the oak trees
The paradoxical nature of life, with a garden representing both harsh and tender aspects.
Mama didn’t raise no fool
Pride in not being easily deceived or misled.
Each year my feet look more like my mother’s
Observing the aging process and inheriting traits from the speaker's mother.
Heels feel for days before and toes hold to the next end
Stepping cautiously into the future, aware of past experiences.
Pounding out the sounds of freedom, loud and out the quicksand
Expressing freedom loudly, overcoming challenges symbolized by quicksand.
Kicking down the rocks to talk the language of the wetlands
Breaking barriers to communicate with nature, represented by rocks and wetlands.
And the paths I will travel spring up ringing with their own voice
Charting individual paths with a unique voice and purpose.
Rolling over stones and soles, fast awake, in-tune
Moving swiftly, staying aware, and remaining in harmony with surroundings.
Rising from the dust to trust themselves with their own noise
Rising above challenges and trusting one's instincts amid adversity.
And Mama didn’t raise no fool
Reiterating the wisdom inherited from the mother, avoiding foolish decisions.
Each year our eyes are looking more like someone else’s
Noticing changes in perspective, influenced by others.
Taking in the things they string together through distraction
Acknowledging external influences shaping thoughts and actions.
We burn what we learned in urns to piece together action
Burning past lessons to fuel present actions, cautioning against misplaced hope.
Or mistake a greater dose of hope for peace and satisfaction
Warning against confusing hope with genuine peace and satisfaction.
And I sustain the pain and shame of the slings and the arrows
Bearing the emotional weight of criticism and insults from acquaintances.
Launched from the mouths of folks that I once thought I knew
Realizing the betrayal from those once trusted, emphasizing the pain of deceit.
Yes, I’ve known love, but not how to love in spite of these blows
Experiencing love but struggling to love in the face of challenges.
So I keep on and hope I learn to
Continuing the journey with the hope of learning and growing despite hardships.
For now?
Pondering the present moment and its challenges.
Course I can hear ‘em, but I can’t listen
Aware of external voices but struggling to truly listen and understand.
To folks who have the curse of sight without the gift of vision
Criticizing those who lack true insight despite having the ability to see.
They’re deep as summer puddles, just as easy to see through
Comparing superficial individuals to shallow summer puddles, easily transparent.
And Mama didn’t raise no fool
Reaffirming resilience and wisdom inherited from the mother.
And Mama didn’t raise no fool
Reiterating the wisdom that the mother did not raise a foolish individual.
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