birdsong? pebbles crunching underfoot? the sound of silence?
That is the quiet music of the deepest most honest soul.
When i am reaching inward to find the little motes..the little notes of my soul floating in the aether.
When i have reached the point of having worn away the rust and detritus of living with chronic pain.
The little lues
The deceit i must live within... to know i am yet living.
This is where the tears live
Of Joy!
Of sorrow
Of living
That...
Is when the sound of silence is so profound..even word are inadaquate to the task.
That Cathedral
Sacrosanct and inviolate
I reserve for my own.
That is where I bow and pray.
No neon gods
No profits telling me it will be ok..
No mirrors and smoke stain this most Holy of Holys
This..my Peace of Mind.
That Thunder once cracked!
Cannot be unheard.
Music is for the in betweens
I am a caged bird
Pain enfolds me
And I will never be free of it
But inside..
I am Free.
That is my song
That is why I write..
So others may hear
There is no perfect life
But I ...WE can perfect the life. we have
So that all you Blessed Pilgrims may scream sing at the top of tip toe, top of lungs! arms spread wide embracing what is a Beauriful Life.
If you see a smile on my lips
You my friends, know why
