Each day we share a mystical sky

The Trickster, the Good Mother and I

Sharing stories of days of yore

Remembering the addiction that was the lore

Some as beautiful as an ever flowing stream

Some as haunting as an eerie dream

Carrying each other through the night

Holding onto passion through the night

Somehow, in our bones, we knew what to do

Confident, discomfort, in knowing who was next to you

The Trickster is an ordinary bloke

The presence of innocence, dressed in an evil cloak

Kind enough to give into your need

The intention from him is hard to read

The Trickster guides you with the guidance of a teacher

If you are to do well, he will take the other

He will trick you into evil

But the Trickster is a teacher, not the devil

If there is a sign of trouble

He wants you there on the double

The Good Mother has the touch of an angel

A comforting smile, a shoulder to cuddle

She tucks you in when you go to sleep

The Good Mother looks around, making sure there is not a peep

She picks you up with a loving smile

The guides you through the next mile

With the good Mother there is right, never wrong

A voice that reminds you of an old love song

Taking on the world does not take effort

With the Good Mother’s blanket of comfort

Each day, each mile the Trickster and the Good Mother

Are sitting firmly on each of my shoulders

Whispering sweet nothings in my ear

This sometimes leads to confusion to what I hear

The decisions, at times, makes the Trickster giggle

Always trying to put new ideas on the table

Sometimes I am not sure where to go

The Good Mother always has the proper know

With or without them, there is always a struggle

On the road to the sonic temple

Constantly my forces tend to argue

About where I am off too

Without the Trickster and the Good Mother everyday

I do not believe I would be here today

May 9, 1999

© Andrew Scott – The People Poet 1999