John Arthur Lomax

Boys of Wildwood

A memory of wild boyhood freedom - before life asked for harness and restraint.

Verse 1

The boys of Wildwood,

more wild than coyote pups.

The road turned to gravel,

and rules thinned with the dust.

No fences, no warnings -

just the world and us.

Verse 2

At twelve I'd load my shotgun,

step out the back door.

Hunting rabbits and silence,

never asking more.

The wind was our teacher,

the fields were our floor.

Chorus

We were wild, wild boys,

no guardrails, no noise.

We learned too young what freedom means,

and carry it still in our dreams.

Verse 3

We caught snakes for courage,

built fires because we could.

Played the crushing-breath game,

and woke to nervous laughs.

We thought it was power, that moment that passed.

Bridge

Then one day, fear found our faith,

and we learned what life demands.

We built our harnessed selves to live,

but the wild still waits in our hands.

Chorus

We were wild, wild boys,

no guardrails, no noise.

We learned too young what freedom means,

and carry it still in our dreams.

METTA

A song of truth and courage - honoring Metta Fock, whose voice was taken but never silenced.

Verse 1

Powerful princes, and gossipy women,

old men in judgment, the jury afraid.

A corrupt judge on the throne of law,

a doctor bought to seal your fate.

They called it justice, but never heard you,

only the din of an angry crown.

They took your voice before your freedom,

your grief, the doorway for their ploy.

Verse 2

No pen or paper in the stone-cold silence,

no witness there to hold your name.

You invented a language born of light,

and stitched your plea through linen seams.

Each thread a word the court denied,

yet still your will stood unafraid.

They meant to break the woman,

but truth endured where you remained.

Bridge

I am innocent of murder.

I stand in who I am.

You may bury me in silence,

but you cannot still the truth.

Verse 3

Long lay the truth under sediments of time,

fear took root where light was thin.

Let Sweden's daughters know we honor them,

and let this song unbind her name.

The flag still holds a hidden stain,

till Metta's voice is free again.

Final Release

We sing the truth you stitched in linen,

your voice now lives in ours.

They took your life - not your spirit.

It lives as our freedom rings.

ChoirWe sing for Metta - we sing for truth.

We sing for Metta - we sing for truth.

Solo

We sing for Metta - we sing for truth.

Lightning in Slow Motion

A moment of awakening - illumination that cannot be unseen.

Verse 1

Lightning in slow motion,

a truth I couldn't flee.

The world grew wide around me,

and something grew in me.

Verse 2

A door gone behind me,

the moment it was crossed.

The cost was innocence,

I could not turn off.

Verse 3

The light began to dim,

but stayed within my chest.

I walked back into living

with less of me at rest.

Bridge

I learned that every opening

requires something gone.

The door that vanished behind me

is the one that led me on.

Chorus

Lightning in slow motion,

slow enough to see.

I'm learning who I'm becoming

each time it moves through me.

Wide Enough

A meditation on balance - living awake enough to be truthful, yet wide enough to remain whole.

Verse 1

I wake into the morning

from a youthful, timeless sleep,

and feel the weight of evening

in the promises I keep.

How awake must I be to be truthful?

How numb must I be to get through?

Chorus

I seek the narrow band of living,

not too awake,

not too numb,

wide enough to be free.

Verse 2

How free must I be to be curious?

How grounded to stay whole?

Stand and face uncertainty

and weather what may roll?

Verse 3

Mortality sharpens my senses,

religion softens my soul.

Certainty narrows my movement,

chaos tests my control.

Chorus

I seek the narrow band of living,

not too awake,

not too numb,

wide enough to be free.

Young Time

A reflection on youth and age - how time feels abundant when we are young and precious when we are old.

Verse 1

Young time feels abundant,

Old time feels precious.

Young time reaches outward,

Old time gathers inward.

Verse 2

Young time assumes there's more,

Old time knows less remains.

Young time spends its hours,

Old time measures change.

Chorus

And I smile to see you running

into all that waits.

Old time finds its comfort

in seeing open gates.

Verse 3

Young time lives the moment,

Old time sees the arc.

Young time runs ahead,

Old time walks steady behind.

Chorus

And I smile to see you running

into all that waits.

Old time finds its comfort

in seeing open gates.

To My Children

A song of gratitude - recognizing that innocent love can change a life.

Verse 1

You are the greatest gift

this world has given me,

a grace I never earned

yet somehow came to me.

I had learned to stand in silence,

to need no helping hand.

I called it strength and discipline

a way to make my stand.

There were edges I inherited,

old tempers in my tone.

Some I carried unaware

into rooms that were your home.

Chorus

You loved me past my limits,

before I understood.

You saw the best within me

before I knew I could.

You loved me into being

the father I might be

you gave to me a better man

than I could see in me.

Verse 2

Joy comes in torrents

more than I can hold.

I stretch myself to carry it,

and in the carrying, I grow.

If my only work in this whole life

was to see you in this world,

I would call my life abundant

for the gift of you, my girls.

Chorus

You loved me past my limits,

before I understood.

You saw the best within me

before I knew I could.

You loved me into being

the father I might be

you gave to me a better man

than I could see in me.

Time as Ours

A meditation on choice - the narrow moment where future and past meet.

Verse 1

There is only one direction of time,

future leaning into past.

Where they meet is where we're standing,

the moment does not last.

It's the opening door of becoming,

the moment a heart decides.

The dance of life is serious business,

no place for us to hide.

Chorus

There is a narrow space inside it

where silence meets the will.

The hand that moves is mine alone,

time is moving still.

Here we are in the present,

this narrow ground we stand.

Every direction begins

in the movement of this hand.

Verse 2

Time moves, and in its turning

hard edges soften slow.

Without the passing of hours

nothing can truly grow.

Chorus

There is a narrow space inside it

where silence meets the will.

The hand that moves is mine alone,

time is moving still.

Here we are in the present,

this narrow ground we stand.

Every direction begins

in the movement of this hand.Bridge

Time is relative,

your time and mine.

Ours with the earth,

and the sun's slow climb.

Chorus

There is a narrow space inside it

where silence meets the will.

The hand that moves is mine alone,

time is moving still.

Here we are in the present,

this narrow ground we stand.

Every direction begins

in the movement of this hand.

The Bend in the River

A reflection on ancestry - discovering that a life is one small turning in a river that flows far beyond us.

Verse 1

There's a river that holds me

flowing long before,

Farmers and soldiers,

orphans and more.

Verse 2

The river carries its blessings,

the river carries its scars.

What runs through my living

is all that came before.

Chorus

The river did not begin with me

and won't see its end.

I am one small turning

where the river may bend.

Verse 3

There were lives within this river

I never came to know,

and there will be others

long after I let go.

Verse 4

I woke within its current

in its moving span,

one brief stretch of water

in the river as it ran.

Chorus

The river did not begin with me

and won't see its end.

I am one small turning

where the river may bend.

Verse 5

I walk with its currents,

I stand on its shores.

Sometimes I am the river,

sometimes I'm more.