part of the Going Down The Road Feeling Glad album  

                 AND listen on 

It’s good sometimes just to stare absent-mindedly.  The opening line came into my head one morning idling on my patio, and the rest of the song flowed from there.  

© 2019 Steven E. Cutts  
recorded and mixed in the fall of 2019 by Jim Robeson 

Steve, guitar and vocal  
Jason Byrd, guitar (Nashville/high-strung tuning)  
Ron  Goad, percussion  
Zan McLeod, mandolin  
Jim Robeson, bass  
Fred Travers, dobro

I’m stunned by the magic in the blue of the sky; 

the ceiling of azure lifts up my eyes.     

From the threshold of space, that blue reaches down deep in my soul. 

I’m astounded by storm clouds climbing tall through the air        

sparkling with lightning slashing here, flashing there; 

the ominous grey warns that things could fly out of control. 

How can it be that the light of the stars 

finds its way here to me when we’ve traveled so far?         

And how can the Moon whether crescent or full 

give me a tug and a pull? 

After all these years, you’d think that I’d be jaded – 

after all that I have heard, that the novelty’d have faded. 

What is left to amaze me?  What could possibly surprise? 

What is out there to be seen that hasn’t passed before these eyes? 

But even after all’s been said and done, I can still be stunned! 

I marvel at saints who will give unto others -- 

greet strangers with love as sisters and brothers --                               

who will spend their last dime to help someone who’s being ignored -- 

who will stand with survivors crippled with grief --                   

who will bring to disaster a bit of relief -- 

who will combat injustice unafraid to push back -- 

who can say “I forgive you” for some terrible act -- 

After all these years, . . . 

When a poem says it all in a handful of words – 

when a novel tells a story that I’ve never ever heard -- 

when a song takes me back to some place in my past --   

it dazzles; it leaves me aghast. 

After all these years, . . .