YOU WONDER HOW THESE THINGS BEGAN
(Schmidt / Jones)
Well, this begins with a Glen. It begins with a season,
Which, for want of a better reason, we'll call April.
It begins with a forest, where the woodchucks woo,
And leaves wax green,
And the vines entwine moonlight lovers.
Try to see it - not with your eyes, because they're wise,
But with your ears - the cool, green breathing of the leaves.
And hear it with the inside of your hand,
The soundless sound of shadows.
Recall it's secret place -
You've been there you remember?
That special place?
Where someone held your hand?
And love was sweeter than the berries or the honey,
Or the stinging taste of mint
It is April - before a rainfall.
Perfect time to be in love