I listen to this song when I really need to, but only then.
You are here for a reason.
Concord
I don't want to be with you
in your pristine early morning
smelling of dawn, glimmering with hope
like dew drops on a new dandelion.
I don't want to walk with you
in your august afternoon
glaring with purport, striding with mettle,
hiking stalwartly up your mountains.
I don't want to partake with you
in your long-shadowed golden dusk
beaming with peace, lambent with grace,
grateful for the very air you breathe.
I don't want to run with you
in your deep Cimmerian evening
flying as the wind, rushing with ardor,
exultant in your continuation.
I don't want to stay with you
in your immortal night
harkening rectitude, beholding totality,
symphonizing with fidelity.
I don't want to be warmed in the shine of your spirit
only to have to give you up to God.
M.Black
in your pristine early morning
smelling of dawn, glimmering with hope
like dew drops on a new dandelion.
I don't want to walk with you
in your august afternoon
glaring with purport, striding with mettle,
hiking stalwartly up your mountains.
I don't want to partake with you
in your long-shadowed golden dusk
beaming with peace, lambent with grace,
grateful for the very air you breathe.
I don't want to run with you
in your deep Cimmerian evening
flying as the wind, rushing with ardor,
exultant in your continuation.
I don't want to stay with you
in your immortal night
harkening rectitude, beholding totality,
symphonizing with fidelity.
I don't want to be warmed in the shine of your spirit
only to have to give you up to God.
M.Black
Sacred
Dare not to lift your eyes from the ground beneath your feet;
the path through the sun-dappled God-woven pine-needle thread-bare throw-rug
is for you alone.
Follow the way the ferns guide you, they bow and beckon the direction you may go.
See how honored they are for their stations;
a whisper can tear them to pieces, and yet they stand like a colonnade,
avid and ardent in their mission.
Sweetly caressing your naked ankles as you pass.
As you pass
on the soft black earth, cold on your skin,
damp with morning dew that lingers even after the high noon.
As you pass
through muck and mire that sucks at your feet,
viscous with bilge that does not drain.
As you pass
on the dry white sand, scorching your skin,
seared with no relief from the relentless sun.
As you pass
on the rich green Earth, warm under your heels,
wet with rains that do not end, and always begin again.
Forward, onward, vanward.
Look back for a moment, for a year,
to see where you have been, to see from where you came,
to remember why you are here, but not for longer than you must.
It is all still ever there, always.
But the way back is not the way ahead.
The ferns are waiting ahead;
eager in their purpose, sure of their calling.
Be gentle as you pass.
M.Black
the path through the sun-dappled God-woven pine-needle thread-bare throw-rug
is for you alone.
Follow the way the ferns guide you, they bow and beckon the direction you may go.
See how honored they are for their stations;
a whisper can tear them to pieces, and yet they stand like a colonnade,
avid and ardent in their mission.
Sweetly caressing your naked ankles as you pass.
As you pass
on the soft black earth, cold on your skin,
damp with morning dew that lingers even after the high noon.
As you pass
through muck and mire that sucks at your feet,
viscous with bilge that does not drain.
As you pass
on the dry white sand, scorching your skin,
seared with no relief from the relentless sun.
As you pass
on the rich green Earth, warm under your heels,
wet with rains that do not end, and always begin again.
Forward, onward, vanward.
Look back for a moment, for a year,
to see where you have been, to see from where you came,
to remember why you are here, but not for longer than you must.
It is all still ever there, always.
But the way back is not the way ahead.
The ferns are waiting ahead;
eager in their purpose, sure of their calling.
Be gentle as you pass.
M.Black
Amy the Artist
My dear friend Amy Scappaticci Sullivan is an amazing talent, don't tell her I said that please. A lifelong musician and artist, brilliant and passionate, and best of all humble. She has allowed me to share some of her art here with you, and I'm grateful for it, I really love her work. If you have questions or expressions regarding Amy's work, please contact me and I will be pleased to relay.
share
St. Thomas School in Southington, CT showed their 32nd Passion Play. They always draw a full house, and there's a good reason for it. It is an amazing production, the air is infused with the passion of the players, children and adults alike, there are no amateurs here. Blown away by the raw talent and the polished performance, as well as the arrangements and music choices. Here is a full article from the Meriden Record-Journal from March 28:
St.Thomas Passion Play
Posted using ShareThis
New Englanders are known for skepticism, and for forging ahead regardless of the weather report. More often than not the hype about the weather is just hype, but not this time.
I made my drive to Providence on Tuesday, skeptical to the usual wolf-cryers, listening selectively to the oft-said Northeasterner advisement "It's only the back roads the highways are fine". This time it was worse than they predicted, I spent about 9 and a half hours in my car. I was very lucky. The flooding is severe and widespread, both Southeastern Connecticut and Rhode Island were hit very hard. My heart goes out to all of my friends who are dealing with this, stay well and please do call.
I made my drive to Providence on Tuesday, skeptical to the usual wolf-cryers, listening selectively to the oft-said Northeasterner advisement "It's only the back roads the highways are fine". This time it was worse than they predicted, I spent about 9 and a half hours in my car. I was very lucky. The flooding is severe and widespread, both Southeastern Connecticut and Rhode Island were hit very hard. My heart goes out to all of my friends who are dealing with this, stay well and please do call.
share
Some local news links about the March 31, 2010 flooding below
Westerly Sun
Posted using ShareThis
ProvidenceJournalVideo
NorwichBulletin.comFlooding-in-eastern-Connecticut
Westerly Sun
Posted using ShareThis
ProvidenceJournalVideo
NorwichBulletin.comFlooding-in-eastern-Connecticut
If you're wondering where all the posts are
Birth, Life, Death, Rebirth, More Life, Death again, Rebirth, etc. I need to clear away clutter every once in a while, burn my stuff and rebuild. Shake the dust off, lay down burdens, rinse the road dirt, wash away the tears, release the anger, let go and let God. What and who remain then are true, solid and lasting.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)