(ęBob Blue 1990)

What matters is the business of the sky
Just as the day gives way to night,
And the moment that the darkness
Gives a subtle hint of early morning light.
It really doesn't matter if you wear a hat,
Or if you wear a crown.
No, it really doesn't matter if you wear a hat,
Or if you wear a crown.

What matters is the crispness of the air
As summer heat gives way to fall,
Or the silence broken only by
The music of a single sparrow's call.
It really doesn't matter if you sit
Upon a chair, and not a throne.
No, it really doesn't matter if you sit
Upon a chair, and not a throne.

When I started on this journey, there was a villain,
and the journey seemed like a quest for justice.
Now the villain is gone, and justice seems like a shadow;
it moves when the light moves.
The treasure under the mountain is like the blueness
of the evening sky or the crispness of the autumn air.
It belongs to the mountain,
as the blueness belongs to the sky,
or the crispness belongs to the air.
We can borrow visions, moments, or jewels,
but we can never own them.

What matters is the feeling
that the stars are up there,
Right where they belong,
Or the melody, the harmony, the poetry
That blend to make a song.
It really doesn't matter whether boundaries
Are charted here or there.
No, it really doesn't matter,
For the world is ours to share.

Comments
Tolkien inspiration indicated by the artist in a personal communication.