The Sister's Walk (Milton Erickson)

Lyrics

[Verse 1]
You built a phantom staircase in the mind,
each step a synapse firing slow and wide—
your voice the myelinated thread that winds
through cortical pathways where the lost confide.
You taught long-term potentiation's dance:
how suggestion blooms when defenses rest,
how theta waves beneath a trance
reorganize the hippocampus best.
Your central image: spiraling descent
where every turn unlocks a hidden room,
and patients climb back up, their torment spent,
their mirror neurons learning how to bloom.

[Chorus]
You spin the spiral, spiral, spiral staircase—
each word a synapse, each pause a grace-space,
your tongue the architect of altered states,
where wounded neural networks find their gates,
where buried pathways light and radiate,
you spin the spiral, spiral, spiral staircase.

[Verse 2]
Your interoception sharp as any blade,
you felt the body's whispered, phantom plea—
proprioceptive maps that you remade
through metaphor and rhythmic certainty.
Predictive coding rewritten by your art:
the brain expects disaster, pain, constraint,
but you rewrote its forecast, reset heart
through axonal branching, bright and faint.
The staircase holds them—moving, never still,
each step a neurogenesis in the mind,
ascending toward a future built by will,
their synaptic plasticity redesigned.

[Chorus]
You spin the spiral, spiral, spiral staircase—
each word a synapse, each pause a grace-space,
your tongue the architect of altered states,
where wounded neural networks find their gates,
where buried pathways light and radiate,
you spin the spiral, spiral, spiral staircase.

[Bridge]
The cortex learns to listen to itself,
long-term potentiation's gentle gift—
you taught the brain that healing lives on shelves
we didn't know existed, how to shift.

[Chorus]
You spin the spiral, spiral, spiral staircase—
each word a synapse, each pause a grace-space,
your tongue the architect of altered states,
where wounded neural networks find their gates,
where buried pathways light and radiate,
you spin the spiral, spiral, spiral staircase.

[Outro]
And up they go, up the phantom staircase still,
each footfall a new synapse singing free,
your voice the architect of will,
the spiral spinning into possibility.

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**WORD COUNT: 287**