The Prophets is inspired by the writings of philosopher and theologian Abraham Joshua Heschel. It begs questions of human agency and primacy of connection to the divine. The chorus line, “Days passing, water aflame” speaks to the seemingly ordinary nature of days passing by, while the profound and inconceivable constantly surround us. I speak of the inconceivable through the words “water aflame” because water cannot be set on fire - and so this evokes the incredulity, of something happening that is impossible, which is actually constantly part of our world and our existence. The image of listening to the wind imparts my belief in the existence of wisdom beyond belief in seemingly ordinary things such as the wind. But do we listen to the wind? As my dad would say, are you really listening to the wind?
Walking a land
where people don’t know prophecy
and we renamed the king because
we don’t know how to rule ourselves
Oh let’s not be naive,
let’s not be naive
about the seat of royalty
People dying a hundred ways each day
Planet crying, fish ain't seen water this
Life knows it history and all its names
Up to you what you wanna do or say
Still you gotta look in a stranger's eyes
And make a choice for your own life
Are you sitting straight in your body?
Can you hear the wind howling?
And are you walking a way
that’ll set you free
when you reach your grave?
Day’s passing, water aflame
wind whistling the prophets’ names
Day’s passing, water aflame
wind whistling the prophets’ names
Ain’t it a shame we can’t hear a thing
as the wind sings our names
Day’s passing, water aflame
I liked it better before, she whispered,
as he moved forward to kiss her
can’t live with ghosts of the past
gotta tune out the culture’s crass
and tune in to the soul path…
Are you sitting straight in your body?
Can you hear the wind howling?
And are you walking a way
that’ll set you free
when you reach your grave?
Day’s passing, water aflame
wind whistling the prophets’ names
Day’s passing, water aflame
wind whistling the prophets’ names
Ain’t it a shame we can’t hear a thing
as the wind sings our names
Day’s passing, water aflame