Closer

So, we're alone again
i wish it were over
we seem to never end
only get closer
to the point where i can take no more

the clouds in your eyes
down your face they pour
won't you be the new one burn to shine
i take the blue ones every time
walk me down your broken line
all you have to do is cry

hush my baby now
your talking is just noise and won't lay me down amongst
your toys in a room where i can take no more

the clouds in your eyes
down your face they pour
won't you be the new one burn to shine
i take the blue ones every time
walk me down your broken line
all you have to do is cry

photographs and brightly colored paper
are your mask you wear in this caper
that is our life
we walk right into the strife
and a tear from your eye brings me home

the clouds in your eyes
down your face they pour
won't you be the new one burn to shine
i take the blue ones every time
walk me down your broken line
all you have to do is cry

~*~*~*~

(Love Joshua Radin!) Recently, listening to Closer, I thought of our kidz. True, this is my own personal interpretation of Radin's song. But much like the Meaghan Smith song did for me, I heard a message about my own sweet Sammers, a message far from what I'm sure he was thinking as he picked out this tune. And so, this song has all of a sudden become so much more to me than a great song.

How often do we sit, alone, with our kids? Exhausted? Burned out, perhaps? At the end of our rope? Either listening to their rambling "noise" or...the loud noise of their silence? Surrounded by "toys" that are supposed to be therauputic and help with a certain aspect of development, only to be piece of plastic that is neglected, yet again, in the corner. Unused. Maybe we feel like we are constantly walking along this path, that isn't straight, but rather crooked and broken?

But then.....

there's that look, you know which one I'm talking about. The one that makes you melt. I admit, sometimes I'm happily puddy in Sammy's tight hands. We're on this journey together, me and her (and a bunch of other great friends and family who want to join us). And sometimes, when I'm feeling weak, all I need is for her to cry out -- get my attention -- and I'm back in the game, heading home hand in hand.

I've thought a lot about the line "won't you be the new one burn to shine." What does that mean? I kept trying to figure it out. And with our kidz on my mind...it led me to think about a crucible. A crucible is a container. In it is contained "ruined" and imperfect matter -- usually metals. Under fire and extreme heat, the impurities/imperfections burn out... and then it's new; it shines. The metal is beautiful. Perfect, or pretty darn close to it. It becomes what it was meant to be. Our kidz...we as parents and caregivers..."won't you be the new one burn to shine"..."walk me down your broken line" because not only do I want Samantha to shine, but I'd like to slowly burn out my own impurities as I learn along this path -- so I can be new and shine along with her...one day.

~*~*~*~