The New Video from the SKY Album... Jeanne's Version of Bob Dylan's Classic "If Not For You" is now available on YouTube. close ×

rock of air


on a rock of air

you float you

i float me,

there is


there is no matter energy space or time

i am unraveling

with lugubrious hope, longing for

the forever moment

we do float



it is april 16 2000 a sunday morning

absolute truth

a painting of roses



spheres of tonality

edges of harmony

blossoms of melodic conclusions

a low bassoon

a french horn in the low register

and a clarinet

all an octave apart



listen to the quiet

how quiet it gets

the songs I grew up to i cannot forget

over and over they roll ‘round in my brain

i found my first love then i lost it again

listen to the quiet

how quiet it gets

the oceans roll with laughter at the tears you have shed

the light in the sky shines down on your face

a star you are in this magical place

love comes around to be on your side

she’ll be an angel as you flow with the ride

listen to the quiet

how quiet beyond

what you see feeling and

what you see gone


trinidad california

i found you laying blue and green

kissing in the night

the moon soft and bright

the mourning of winter trees

stars that twinkle and flicker

secrets never revealed

never has there been a pure and powerful place like this place

this new

this train of winter trees

this train of time that i hold onto



the only medicine

the only medicine is love

peace is a condition unto itself

your light is not alone

together we are a revolution of love

let your light shine

love one another

let love in



house of time

you have been the same for oh so long

is all you were meant to be dead and gone?

oh, house of time

the winds do blow, paper whites grow, the spring does know

oh, house of time

you hold my secrets inside your walls

you open your doors when my heart calls

your quiet splendor hides my sorrow and

you are where i’ll live tomorrow

where is the joy i sing about

what is it that i cannot live without

i want to feel what i have to give

is my struggle just an illusion that i live?

so, house of time

in your cream and gray

chipping so slowly

perfection fading away

i cannot fight cannot resist

i cannot survive what time does miss

forgive my pride, my scorn and shame

i am no saint

only peeling paint remains

it haunts me now

it lays me low

it finds my breathe and never lets me go

i am not me

i am not i

i am that god, but for him go i

i am not my words, i am not yours too

just passing with time

just passing thru

04/01 wichita, kansas



after the time of the blues

i am where i want

i show you the high and low

i let you go, oboe

flyin’ far from the “shoulds”

i celebrate the mystery of discovery

of what makes me happy

i show you high and low

i let go, oboe




touch my heart, mend my soul, be my love, into my whole.

until i become washed away in your breath, in your arms,

in your sweeping energy that travels into light.

light fields growing blossoms of yellow petals,

green grasses, white lilies, and purple sages.

they call me home, they call me to the prairies,

to the mountains, to the sky.

take me home again.

let me feel safe-where i am not afraid.

thank you for your understanding.

i await you.



she is a tear

she is a train

she is

a drop of rain

an inch of silver

a mile of gold


what is your number?

let us all join together in this quest for harmony

it is an easily recognizable time to be loveable and kind and spread goodness to all

find your center, the place that feels deepest inside yourself

join us to spread appreciation, gentleness, & patience for each other.


you are each other.

we are each other.

i am you.

we are not created equal in the material temporal world although we…

we can bridge those differences.

do not give up.

be grateful.

your days on this earth are numbered.

you just do not know what the number is.



crossing bridges

there was an artist who could only photograph bridges. he was obsessed with crossing over. he found bridges everywhere to cross over and photograph. he searched the universe to experience crossing over and took pictures to remember how wonderful to cross from one place over to another place. the bridge was always unique. the crossing over was always unique. the photo was always in black and white and gray and light. that made the photograph. his eyes were right in front of each picture but you couldn’t see them. you could only see the picture, the photograph. you could never see his eyes but they created the picture. they recognized the bridge image and then created the picture with the camera. many pictures were created, many bridges were crossed over. many times he realized the picture of the bridge, he remembered. the realization was always present before he saw the bridge. divine destiny.

mechanics of a camera

and a bridge

and a photographer.



as we rise above the river of fear, we walk into a valley of love.

high in the heavens the white tears fall onto our faces,

our arms reach out to embrace and cherish 

and hold on.

like rain, a field of goodness we have found

the feeling of turning and flowing through tunnels,

carried through the atmosphere with such reason and purpose.

we travel in the arms of the earth,

the wind protects us and brings us to a destination we do not know

yet we travel on.