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Welcome, O life, I go to encounter for the millionth time the reality of experience and to forge in the smithy of my soul the uncreated conscience of my race. Old father, old artificer, stand me now and ever in good stead.

James Joyce—A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man


Venture and roam
For the roots are rotted
Courage expands within proportion
Keep not standing
Drawing it out
Finish with fire heat and might
I temper the locks in the smithy of my soul

Unresolved conscience
Inhibits decision
Fear paralysis
Strike off the chains and go free
Heed no judgements
Cast out opinions
I hammer out hinge in the smithy of my soul

The slag and the ashes spilled outright
And the songs are molten down
Like the skies
Heaven's lies
As the fallen come crashing down

Spirit sparks fly from the anvil
Hold fast to file and vise
Toil and rejoice
in the roar of the bellows
With measured blows
Wrought in iron
The answer
I forge the door in the smithy of my soul

Deliver yourself
Take up the keys and be gone


from WILD ANGELS, released December 7, 2010
Words and Music - joe Wilford




Joe Wilford Iowa City

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