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The deer don't lie
I have watched them in the morning light
Dappled neath the beech and ash and maple
Crossing over a river a swollen
with the remnants of a long last winter night

They lift their heads up
To a cloudless sky
To say a storm is coming in
Though it's still miles and miles and miles from here
You've got to trust your intuition
Just to stay alive.

I see blue
On the horizon
I fear not my undoing.
On the horizon
I fear not my undoing.

When the woods get quiet,
It is not silent.
Subtle is the choir of the mystic-
The songs of the living
and dying.

I did not make my way out to this mountain-
howling,
begging for a sign-
For I knew I would not find it
With the eyes of a skeptic.
No, not with the eyes of a skeptic

Will I see blue on the horizon
and fear not my undoing.
On the horizon
I fear not my undoing.

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