my heart weeps
tears that flood glacier springs
cold and blue
cracked as the ice upon the lake
holding but broken
less capable of bearing weight
oh spirit, that descends on men in times of trouble
descend on me
teach me the lesson i could never learn
to hold the heart or play the hand
for it is my curse that I should fall in love
to be stripped clean innocent and naked
eating in the garden
a curse
that i should fall
only to climb the mountain again
and again
how beautiful the rocky path
and the calloused feet that walk it
take from me, oh spirit which dwells in men
with the wind to carries mans sails across the sea
this somber note
this sweet and sad symphony
for my heart bears not the oceans squalls
when broken and alone at sea
or teach my heart a new song
with a more cheerful melody
that i may regain my vigor
and cast myself once again
out into the galaxy of fish
perhaps a nonsensical melody
which may never end
Thinking Thoughts of Merry-Madness
Lately I've been considering the necessity of thought. Is it? Of course, something as natural as breathing is going to be difficult to get rid of, if it someday turns out to be unnecessary. Shocked as you may be after a statement like that consider the word Government. Begins with 'govern' which means to control and ends with 'ment' which is mente or mind. Govern + mente = to control the mind. Thinking, whether on the course to enlightenment or as the loyal subject of the new republic is a clinging to the old world. My instincts and heart tend to keep me out of trouble anyway, although it is aided by some rosy colored spectacles and this old monkey on my shoulder. We have to learn to just Be.
Do words mean anything? Really!? Just lexical symbols to represent ideas. Ideas inside our heads which form pictures of things we see in the world of our experience. Its symbolic alchemy to arrange the letters which mean nothing unto themselves but when placed in specific orders and combined they take on meaning. Words begin to appear. Mastering words produces sentences. Where the meaning begins to take on layers. Words, abstract constructs, Command and commemorate, clarify and congratulate, criticize and consummate, they are the pillars of meaning in our understanding of things. Why have the beautiful ones been abandoned? Why have we chosen to stop thinking for ourselves? I want to see words like philanthropist and cynosure, epiphany, ethereal, soliloquy, potamophilous.
Good night.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
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