Listen with L/R stereo headphones for the best experience
Expeditition Earth Stars & BackJonathan Robert Martin
00:00 / 04:14
If you dig and want to pass along any special contributions, you can most certainly do so here at my Donate page.
Listen with L/R stereo headphones for the best experience
The Long Road to GloryJonathan Robert Martin
00:00 / 13:19
If you dig and want to pass along any special contributions, you can most certainly do so here at my Donate page.
Listen with stereo headphones for the best experience
The Day The Trees Cried With Mountains.mJonathan Robert Martin
00:00 / 17:49
If you dig and want to pass along any special contributions, you can most certainly do so here at my Donate page.

Lyrics to These Creative Pieces


The Day the Trees Cried, With Mountains

So I pulled out a map.


This was grief speaking.

I was agitated.

I needed to move.

I yearned for adventure.


But foundation-less.


I was,


I answered a call though.

Give me credit,

I Accessed the map,

You see.

I Saw the Destiny,

I Moved…

And went with it,


I guess.

I Found allies this time.

Like old times,

Journeys sought after.

Exploration the theme.

Unknown the destination.

Let’s just go there!

Faith in its lessons,

We navigated the creek,

Into the Valley of Destruction.

Trees weakened at the knees.

Tunnels of falling rock.

The air thick with Terror.

The sudden move that would

Initiate immediate Terror.

And then Creation, yes,

But have I moved on too soon?

The trees are falling here,

And I eat with silver spoons?

Their food too, but not,

Because they do not wish

To own what I’ve got…

A new life and opportunity,

But so fragile in its core,

The walk was fragile,

The walk was fleeting.

A puzzle.

Remembering a Time.

Remembering a tune.

Singing the songs of

The scared ones.

In sacred tones,

But fraudulent

If I knew what was

In store.

Had I known,

I would not continue,

No one would,

That is why we ignore.

I had not sung it yet.

Nor did I choose to,


I spoke intentions,

That is it,

For now.

Enough I would think?

We helped each other,

The Allies.

Partners in crime.

To survey a crime.

Where no chalk-line

Nor autopsy had been done.

It was so miraculous,

The lessons were everywhere!

But dread’s doorstep,

That’s where we were.

Every… step… of… the… way…

It was magical,

And dreadful.

Dreading magic I was not.

It was leading,

And we were following.

“Are we there yet?”,

I asked for the n’teenth time.

Snicker, snicker.

“Where are you heading?”,

Something asked.

I wanted to ask for something,

But knew not what to ask for.

Why was I here?

How could I feel this?

I was so scared.

How could I hold space,

In the Terror that resides

In the Valley of Destructions,

The Animals had left,

To die. Some.

And scatter. Some.

Long long ago,

Abandoned to the brave,

And the inability to move,


But moving more

Than that highway zipping by.

Highways freeze time.

Some at least,

The destruction hidden,

From Denial to Demise…

A thin layer of two worlds,

One of the busy,

And one of the busier.

And a third emerges,

Of course.

One of the quiet.

One of the respect.

One of the stories,

Yet to be heard.

The songs,

Yet to be sung.

A song of belonging.

We kept walking.

Sweat pouring in eyes.

Salt mixing,

Combing my scalp.

Knicked, battered, and bruised,

In all of my faculties.

With heat of the Sun,

We have come to shine,

With the full light of the Sun.

The monstrosities contributed,

As we moved the river,

Back in time,

The lies continue to hide.

Beyond this tiny veil,

Of a fragile Truth,

A thin forest,

And a man-made loss.

Lies a man who has lied,

His way out of the noose.

Yes, suicide and escape,

Of the desperate Soul.

Fleeing captivation,

While running into the cage,

Forever more.

Graffiti will fit,

Wherever it is.

As it is.

Even under the bridge,

Unseen to those

Who ride above its


Too chaotic,

This stream is

A Gift,

This world is.

The busier.

A fragile beginning,

And thus a fragile mold.

A fragile road.

A lesson to be learned,

For sure.

All parts, nothing left out.

We walked,

We walked,

And walked,

Until it was too much.

Too soon.

Too intense.




Locked in the Valley of Destruction,

We must go back!

As the Trees toppled

Reminded us of our



Or significance.

It became a choice.

Not then,

Still work to be done.

The way we came,

To retrace footsteps

Of Ancestors,


Of Shame,

I know.

That’s why I came.

I’m not as stupid

As I once thought.

I’m not the destroyer

That I once was.

The same here,

No different.

Of the destruction,

Hidden in the shininess that

Captivates the vulnerable ones.

Who is most vulnerable?

Those without a voice?

Those without a reason?

Those without remorse?

Those who cannot feel?

Without you feeling too?

That is reconciliation.

That is heavy lifting.

The work to do?

So we walked,


Through graffiti walls,

And then zipping cars,

And then…

The thin wall that separates

Us All… For All…

What is on the Otherside?

The train track.

That leads to fantasy

That leads to fear.

How far was it?

From the Valley of Destruction,

Not far.

Very near!

Very closely related,

Two mountains had become.

Not a thought to me,

For one requires the Other,

Yes, they can not be far a part.

Fear and fantasy,

The lock to the door.

They cannot be far.

They are too,

Like mountains,

The torn and

The tornados.

I don’t know,

One in the same,

An extension of each other.

Like from A to B,

Like graffiti and trains.

Why is it that I wonder?

And wander,

And she too?

Are we there yet?

When will it be?

Do you want to eat lunch?

What I have come here to see?

A Sasquatch!

Must be it.

We talked of it,

Heard of it,

Believed in it,

That would be cool.

But I know not,

What I came here for.

But a root,

To dig deep,

To continue on.

It stirred,

The restless sleep.

The moving in the grave,

Restless that could not be,

Any longer,

In its shape.

Too warped a perspective

For the coming days.

So refreshed in the comfort

Of homely confines,

The Wilderness I once lusted,

Did not seem as it seemed,


And Then and Now.


But were they?

How are they connected?

The mountains,

The streams.

Why am I here?

The graver Reality that was.

Those questions.

I thought I could flee this outcome,

And still I have chosen to come.

I would like to climb a mountain,

Hey this isn’t what I wanted.

But it’s what you needed,

Precisely, keep moving,

Go on!

I want more.

Then go,

Clenching jaws.

Grinding teeth.

Calling out to Spirits.

Calling out to the Land.

Spirit of the Mountain,

I am tired of these foolish ways.

Then come to me,

Where are you,

All around, just see.

Time to head back.

That’s what we came here for?

A lunch?

Seems like not enough,

But oddly,

I’m settled,

In that score.

Something shifted,

Something turned,

On head.

Something became more.

I can handle this tune,

It is what it is.

And with an ally,

It can be no different.

Once forgotten,

Once abandoned,

I have returned.

I have come to survey

The calling of Soul.

The Ancestors lead me here,

They intend NO HARM.

So all is good,

I guess that was it.

Let’s go home,

Maybe desert?

They are loving in tricky ways,

These Ancestors I speak.

The Spirits of Nature,

Learned Love it is,

It is Faith,

That it is working.

Even in tricky thunder,

That even in the grips,

Of that which destroys,

Boys and girls wonder.

There is a wondering girl,

For every wandering boy,

They set out for adventure,

And to come to grips with Change.

I wanted this to be different,

But no it will not be the same,

I let go of the notion,

I let go of that notion

I let go of the pain.

What more is there?

Had I let go of pain?

I didn’t feel it.

Or disguised as remorse?

That I didn’t back there,


What is more than identity?

What is more than identifying pain?

Is it a walk and a talk,

Or is it an embodiment of

This game, scared.

And sacred, yes that too,

All parts required.

I too am a part of you,


Said the rocks.

Early in the depths

Of the Valley of Destruction,

The frozen river bed,

That wandered.

I had come to hear the trees,

To see the demise.

To cry,

And yet I cannot hear,

Their song.

It’s quiet.

Was it their song

I came to hear?

It is your song they sing,

It said.

And they are waiting for you.

Why there’s a path!


Should we go in?

Looks amazing,

It was not here

When we came through.

It just appeared.

Because we walked by?

Because we pushed through?

Because we had lunch?

Because we took advice?

That’s it, keep going!

They keep saying this,

Straight ahead,

No harm can be done,

Only Love,

They love me.

They really really love me.

That I can feel.

We took the path,

We headed up.

Was this the mountain

That we set out to learn of?

We came for clear cuts,

And all I see is trees.

Beautiful in their Nature,

Cared for,

In this path that

Winds up its terrain

We came for clear-cuts,

And destruction and pain.

Was this an accumulation?

A prize?

Or the same,


A different side?

Of the same coin?

The clear cuts became,

They hadn’t been felt,

Nor ever been seen,

By my eyes,

As this was,


Now, unfolding,

In chunks

All for hearts…

To be felt.

Of the valley we set out for,

Of the one we should…

Look, there it is.


And another.

And another.

The higher we got,


And another.

The higher we got,

Clear cuts abound.

The further we must come down,

We must be connected,

To the Sky and its…

Earth, my God.

Yes this is why I came,

My god.

This is so important,

It was a walk of shame.

I hit my head.

Blood came.

Just a bit.

But enough to sit me down.

As I ran out of gas,

As I wanted to run down.

As I came to a point,

Where will emerged.

The mountain spinning,

Head down, falling,

Up, I must continue.

And on I went,

But with what?

Not understood.

My partner and ally,

A strength of the couraged.

A reminder of space,

Between time.

No time.

But on Time,

We must be.

Rushed and relaxed.

Curious and contained.

An ally into Otherworld.

To hold space,

For the Mountain.

That must view.

The monstrosities and horror

Of the doom.



And then another,

Clear cut.


Just beyond,

The thin veil of pretty.

It’s voice said.

I got scared.

I took on Terror.

I was Terror.

I wailed.

I want to head down.

Head down.

I wailed.

I wailed.

I wailed.

Terror wailing.

Falling down.

Falling down.

Trees sinking.

Ground falling.

Rocks moving.

Under neath,

Mountain spinning,

Falling into lakes.

World spinning around.

The higher I got,

The Terror it struck.

The trees cried.

The lake would echo,

The man who climbed

The Mountain,

With allies,

Without a shovel,

To dig a grave,

For a terrified one.

One who could wail.

And continue still uphill.

To realize that the down,

Was easier than thought.

It was a gift,

In this hindsight

And this current sight,

Foresight as well.

No Separation here.

The masks I wore,

For that point,

Came off.

The voices that emerged.

All a reasoning,

The mountain was crying,

Claimed the echoes below.

And there were two ropes.


Thin air,

We scaled up a mountain,

When we came to find grief,

And a mountain to climb,

We found both.


It was the most magical quest.


And all from asking a question.

Where shall I move?

What shall I treat myself with?

What does this tension wish to do?

To celebrate its uniqueness,

To give the gifts never

Given, nor received.

Both symbiotic in

Relevance and meaning.

How shall I groove?

What is that voice

That wants nothing but wild?

To risk the endeavour,

But still unscathed

Ride on. Ride on.

Time to go home.

Fake, see if you’re ready.

I’ll climb higher,

I know tricks can challenge.

To where next?

Where shall I move?

Where you are moving,

Of course.

Into the Future.

Told by the Past.

Visiting Us for Healing,

Now and then,

The day the Trees cried,

With Mountains.


The Long Road to Glory

The times are clear.


It is has been,


And always has been.


To each their own.

And each on their own.


It may seem,


For some time,


Until dust settles,


Empowered movements


Unsettling the Land.


Then coming together,




But the land already,


Unsettled from its history 




Or is his story


The problem?


It has been untold.


Not yet clarified.


Not yet told.


One version,


Too many versions,


Endless versions,


But one Reality,


One Truth.


All inclusive,


Yet separable


In their Illusion


Of the false reality


We have believed in.


Not all inclusive,


Of the Whole story.


Not yet illuminated,




We can’t rush too soon.


Those signs, 


They’re posts,




Feel it!


Like All,


A treasure, 


Please let us know 


The lust as it is, 


A paradox of balloons.


Celebrating Earth’s demise.


While saying good morning,


With no mention,


Of all of these lies.


Why no mention,


Of the wisdom in hearts?


Why no mention,


Of the wisdom in hearts?


In a time of such parole. 


Why is it ignored?


And why when it’s said,


I feel no remorse…


But like an empty hall,


That school used to be.


I feel no sensitivity,


Just anger engrossed,


In its normality.


Engrossed in its form,


Shaping and shifting,


Trying not to be seen.


Yes, that which denies,


The existence of demise.


Denies denies,


Denying denial.


You see, paradox.


Tell the truth in


Ways that work,


To forward agendas,


Of proposing hurt.


The perpetuation of,




And penetration?


Penetrating the Mother?


Like the Father has.


Abuse, violence,






Not needed once


We realize that it


Hurst us All,


In some way,


That is Truth.


But in the All,


There can be no hurt.


So paradox again,


Lickety split!


Disguised as a victim,


But in its defence,


Yes Self defence,


Nothing more,


A defence to defend


What was once worth it.


And yes,


What was once worth


Fighting for.


As you may already know,


Ready to defend,


Waiting for the chance,


Gearing up,




Tension building.




For what?


Entangled futures?


A movie sequel playing?


What once was 


Looked for,


In every shade of grass,


Between and beneath


The trees,


The mycelium networks






In its own sense


Of Breeze.


The trees,


Some have gone,






But now appeared.


Like appearance will do,


Fake time.


It separates none,


This invisible breeze.


A cool notion.


To those who have


Sticklered around in their sticklerness.


Begrudgingly defending,


That its very mention,


Causes shudder.


Mention of what?


What stops Love?


A deep demise?


Of the very demise?


A denial of denial?


Yes a Paradoxical Reality


This is!


This is all as it seems,


But with which eyes?


Which eyes used?


Which eyes can be imagined?


Which can be banished?


Which can be persuaded?


Which can be clear?


Which can stand in Power?

Ready and Able.


But here to bring forth,


The Power of Love.


In the Hearts of Humans,


And the Heart Beat of All.


Yes, in its beats,


The Ancestors,


It too discovered 


The secrecy of the remains.


Like bones once buried,


Of a past once wondered.


Of the same stuff


That carries forward,


In Spirit and Flesh.


It’s normality it seems,


That brings us back


To a time,


In villages,




Where peace was 




As it seemed,


Was, once.


Not an illusion,


But once,




Not a pretend game.


That makes believe believers,


Masked in shame.


Wishing for sameness,


Lusting in lack.


I want to be Loved,


Cries out the un-Loved.


Is that All is this is about?


The nurturing and support?


The inadequacy of care?


The throwing of pain


At one another in lie.


Perpetuating remains,


Like Ash that won’t die.


Open up the heart,


Open up your arms,


Embrace one another,


Hear the story,


Hear the scorn,


Hear the hatred,


That you shall not own.


For it has already been


Owned, once before. 


It carries forward,

Actions of today.


To grow the forest,


That hides in vain.


Unable to see?


Until reborn in purpose


It becomes again.


Until its useful again,


And then it will blossom.


Blossom into fields


Of whatever it is 


You choose. 


The forest is growing,


And running the course.


It has always been that way,


But shutters will blind.


Even the most brave,


Who feel like I do.


We had it solved,


Figured out,


And then once again,


It became unglued,


And again,


Samples of letters,


I had sent in the mail,


Memories for another day.


Memories from hell.


The hell I denied,


For I was in its depths.


The hell I dreaded,


Was the hell I wrote of.


The hell I shunned,


Was the hell I invented,


Until one day…


It dawned upon me,


What if I faced it,


Without looking away,


The terror that scares


All that once feared,


Could I gain a Truthful lense,


Make sense of this All?


And what shapes shift


Into its endless forms,


A dust will settle,


But with Ash becomes Purpose.


A fire that was born.


With Creative intension in mind,


That do not drain Souls


But fill them up,


With uniqueness and kindness,


Of a fierce authority in what 


One one stands for.


That is Love.

The gift we were born with,


Yet to be discovered.


That is Love.


I wish that for You.


I really really do.


I know in my heart,


That once I lusted you.


I loathed the very being,


That I had learned to be,


And instead you, it was,


That I’d rather be.


Not anymore,




It’s not You, 


It’s Me,


I just prefer me.


It’s not You,


I just prefer me.


It’s not You.


Rather than the other way,


Collapsed in bottles,


Drunk in rage.


Blacked out,


And rattled in lines,




In the history of time.


Before kids,


Before grace,


Before anything


Could show its face.


Because in denial


I existed,




Once cutoff off,


A blur.


One reality confused,


Taken over.


Something commanded different.


Something wanted more.


Something woke up,


And saw pleasure emerge.


Two realities, 


Wanting merging.


It had never felt like this before,


How could it get 


Any better than this?


Brilliant question!


Let me show you the Path.


Here it is, there it is,


Everywhere a Path.




It was all there.


It was all You.


It is All You.


It will always be You.


The relationship formed,


Will experience and manifest


And shape shift into form,


And please let me remind You,




I can’t help it.


Reminding and forgetting, 


Needing each other.


Yes a paradox this Life,


And magic it brings.


For those that dread rebirth,


And the Soul it can gain.


A boring place,


Why has it become?


A dreadful remind


For the soul.


That I once I had 




Of the freest free can be.


One without limitation,


One without the need for degrees.




Disguised and confused


In a power that’s sucked


From the very soul,


A boring place


Why has it become?


A dreadful remind for the Soul.


That it once had freedom,


Of the freest free can be.


One without limitation,


One without,


The need for degrees,


A big tease this is.


This tension would seem.


Dangling carrots once eaten,


But a puzzle separates it


From me from chomping down


But who is me?


Into what you want!


Into what do you want to chomp?


Ah a disguise,


Not taught in school


But education is useful, 


To imply what is.


What we have come here to learn,


Of deep purpose of Remembering,


Of something reborn.


Taking sometimes scorn,


If not all the time,


In our demise,


Taking that,


And shape shifting it back,


Into the Love


That we know it to be,


And that is the Power


We have come here to see.


If not all the time,


Sometimes I shy.


From casting inevitable


Onto an unpredictable framework,


But I wish that for You,


As I have wished for myself.


Appearing selfish at times,


Forgive me in my Learning.


For we all are in the same boat,


Regardless of where you 


Want to put me.


And whether you want to 


Throw me overboard


Into the waves


That I have already sunk into,


To realize the inadequacies


Of my being.


Just different perspectives of Love.


All coming home,


As reluctant as that sounds.


To embody the feeling,


That all experience grants!


To honour what is,


To claim it can be no different,


In this moment.


And then it can,


In the next.


To move in new directions,


New and old.


To dicpher and discern 


What is being told


By the Reality


That presents itself to you


In a framework


Perfect for You.


Flawless in design,


As you are.


As you are its Design.


With the Light of Creator


Burning through the Soul,


Awakening the Gift,


Of Returning Home.


Where is that you ask?


Fantastic question,


Keep asking!


I did and miracles answered.


They are for here.


They are for you to see,


Not me. 


For it is my Life


And Yours,


And that is why,


Individuated they become.


To merged into some 


Sort of understanding.


But still uniqueness


In its foundation.


Not me,


A Life individual.


But connected,


Simultaneously, at once.


Let me remind you,


We are made of the Trees,


The stars and their leaves,


and all in between,


And all things that scare,


And the things that ware us.


The things that stir our


Pondering child to emerge.


To use the colour of Life,


To paint with the gift of care,


To re-imagine what is possible.


And it All starts here.


You, Me, to find Self, 


Is to know Self 


Through Others,







Blessings in this new chapter, and may the relentless new beginnings clarify the gift and purpose of your Soul in this Human experience, to engrain and ground the wisdom that you have come here to bring forth.


Lots of Love