11 January 2009
Full Moon, January 2009
As I write this, after playing music for the past hours with a friend (whose fingertips became bloodied from the strings and strength of his playing)...I ponder what is going on. Collapsing markets. Foreclosures. Job losses. Anger pulsing from deep within people's ids and egos. Israelis' jets and drones raining down punishment upon an impoverished, imprisoned people...angered by the poverty and embargos...and yet, the wealthy feel justified. Okay...back off. I didn't mean for this to take a political bend...
Soft....fingers tracing circles lightly on a glistening forehead. Your gentle voice...
I'll be 61 on the next full moon. Was I ever 50? I don't remember. I believe I've always been a child-like person. Playing. Fearing.
For you all, I wish the strength of peace and love...wherever in the world you are. There is no now...there is no tomorrow...there is no yesterday. It's all mystery, and that is fine with me.
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I need a song. I need a song like a river, cool and dark and wet, like a battered old oak; gnarled bark, bitter acorns, a song like a dr...
1 comment:
I'm with Bill Clinton on this. "It depends on what the meaning of the words 'is' is."
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