We were born before the wind
Also younger than the sun
Ere the bonnie boat was won as we sailed into the mystic
This guy just blows me away.
Some people do that to me, with their talent.
This is a face with character. A face that knows the ways of the Universe,
one of those few that looks into the light and isn't blinded
but instead is able to impart a bit of it to US, and for a brief few moments
we can fly along with him, by way of his music.
He looks like he always flown into the mystic.
It's not always easy to flow in the mystic. Or at least to be aware of it. So many things can drag
us down when we dwell on them. The condition of man, our earth and ourselves
physically and spiritually, busyness and drudgery can make us forget about
this stuff, yet the mystic flows around us and through us, whether we notice
or not. Maybe more when we don't notice, I think.
We're at the tail end of blizzard. Everything is white now. It wasn't more
than ten days ago we had a stretch of 50 degree days. The feel of spring,
without the smell. It didn't smell like spring yet, and any fool that's
lived around here for any length of time doesn't need the groundhog to tell
them that a few 50 degree days in February does not an early spring make. It
was good to get outside and do a little yard cleanup though.I raked a little
bit and cleared some more brush from the corner lot. The warm temps were good
for a psychological jump start too. A window into spring.
It made everyone feel a bit optimistic, I think. I took advantage of
that and dug up some business for myself out of no where.
Now it's snowed for almost twenty four hours, and everything is white.
Slick, half plowed roads keep us near the house, and wet mittens and cold feet
eventually drive us all inside, but not until we've done a little team work,
with the shoveling. Inside we crank the music and the heat up an extra notch to blow away
the cold, and pull out the board games. Board games are a good stand by when
you loose power in a blizzard. We didn't lose our power, but it's become such
a snow day habit, they come out anyway. We play a bit, and at dinner
everyone is laughing at dumb jokes, and kidding around.
We tasted spring last week and we know its going to get here eventually.
It's an unspoken promise, one that we can rely on. Something we may need
to be reminded of from time to time. Something to bear in mind when we're
snowed in. Something that will come whether we are aware of it or not.
Probably when we least expect it, while we're busy living life.
Hark, now hear the sailors cry
Smell the sea and feel the sky
Let your soul and spirit fly into the mystic.
