Whenever I think of leaving home
And being anywhere but here,
I see clouds like soft potatoes
And rains with their droplets watering my hills.
Whenever I hear the hateful wind blow dirt along the roads
I hear cardinals singing in the bare trees.
Whenever I feel I want to be alone
I think about that poor cottonwood in the next field.
Whenever I think about my Grandma and Grandpa
Who are gone from sight,
I think of a sky you can see anytime.
Once in my dreams I was in that sky.
I heard a beautiful voice below me.
I shot from the sky in a blaze
To a place just outside my bedroom window
Where now I stand,
Where I love being a girl,
Where someday I will be a woman,
With my feet on the ground,
Looking up always at the sky,
In Iowa.