Oh Soul so tender
How You flinch at my touch
A purplish glow
Replaces the light
Revealing the bruises
Inflicted by
Life
Why choose this suffering?
Divine creator
of chaos
I cry…
And I plead
Take me back to the beginning
Oh how I yearn to know!
I am willing
Heart wide open
Listening…
Waiting…
For enlightenment
to unfold
visit to the past
last night I went to a gathering of people that shared three or more years during our pre-adult years. At the time, not knowing any more than what we had tasted so far, which seemed like a lot, but actually was full of misconceptions about our own self importance, we huddled together in small groups and created stories about the events taking place as we started our lives. Now the stories are relegated to a past that is hidden in shaky memory, and the newer events are what drives our lives, and as we share those stories, the notions that we had any sense of the world is shown in the nature of our experiences and the results. Some made money and kept it, some had hard lives. There are lines on faces, changes in hair color, and changes in the shapes of our bodies. The stuff that mattered in our youth may be the same, but it is clear that experience has altered what we once believed to be so certain. Let me play a few notes to give thanks to how my learning has led me to this.
No doubt, it will be forgotten soon enough.
Popularity: 100% [?]
Ah yes, our perception of knowledge as young people is inversely proportionate to our real knowledge or wisdom.
Idealized perception and fantasy are different than the more realistic view time gives us. The difficulty of having experience is that jaded view that is not helpful either. Balance is an amazing equalizer and may actually be a clearer view of the world.
Thank you for your response. bouzouki
Well I looked into a house I once lived in
Around the time I first went on my own
When the roads were as many as the places I had dreamed of
And my friends and I were one
Now the distance is done and the search has begun
I’ve come to see where my beginnings have gone
Oh the walls and the windows were still standing
And the music could be heard at the door
Where the people who kindly endured my odd questions
Asked if I came very far
And when my silence replied they took me inside
Where their children sat playing on the floor
Well we spoke of the changes that would find us farther on
And it left me so warm and so high
But as I stepped back outside to the grey morning sun
I heard that highway whisper and sigh
Are you ready to fly?
And I looked into the faces all passing by
Its an ocean that will never be filled
And the house that grows older and finally crumbles
That even love cannot rebuild
Its a hotel at best, youre here as a guest
You oughta make yourself at home while you’re waiting for the rest
Well I looked into dream of the millions
That one day the search will be through
Now here I stand at the edge of my embattled illusions
Looking into you
The great song traveler passed through here
And he opened my eyes to the view
And I was among those who called him a prophet
And I asked him what was true
Until the distance had shown how the road remains alone
Now Im looking in my life for a truth that is my own
Well I looked into the sky for my anthem
And the words and the music came through
But words and music can never touch the beauty that Ive seen
Looking into you — and thats true
- Jackson Browne
Just noticed a new video chat site called Chat Spasm, a chat site with musicians.