Never Said Goodbye-6 Years Gone

Never Said Goodbye-6 Years Gone


Pearl Harbor Day 2000

Survived the "calamity" of Y2K

And the year flows on by.......


The year draws to a close
As we prepare to gather

Christmas in Georgia
With all the family around

And I pass
And spend my time alone


I see you with Stash
In my own room
In old Tennessee

"Get up boy", you say
"Time to walk the ol dog".....

I rub my eyes......
What did I just see?

"Is that you, Dad?"

Silence.....nothing but silence.

I wander upstairs and stoke the fire......
The coffee brews and the aroma fills the room.....

I never did say goodbye, did I?

Farewell, friend.......until the next time.........

Walking My Path Alone

Walking My Path Alone

It's a lonely hike
When you walk your path alone

Lonely in the woods
With only the sounds of nature
To push you along.....

As you age in the wilderness
You ponder your past

And know......

The greatest fear I have
Is to grow old.....and alone........

I don't wanna grow old....alone......

Twirl to the Ground

It is the ever-present pressure from day-to-day living
What to rember and what to forget

Sometimes I think about those old high school days
A young "adult"...with all the answers
But what were the questions?

We wander aimlessly into true adulthood
And still the unknown questions are followed
By the true unknown answers......

Were do we go from here?

It's an odd feeling, as you meander through "middle age",
And those same ol' questions go unanswered.....
And then you approach the mid-century mark!

I recall the question from the back seat
Of a long car-ride....
"Are we there yet?"

As we twirl to the ground
Wondering if there is an answer
We ponder life.....

And then we understand........

There is now an answer

It is just the journey.........

The journey that does not end......until you finally rest.

Fare Thee Well........

Wooden Indian

Wooden Indian
Words and Music by John Denver

Now I was a red man
I was proud, I was strong
You were the white man
And you stole away my home

Now I am a wooden indian
Painted dreams inside my head
Times a where you bring me down
And make you wish that I was dead

Na na na

Now I was a red man
And my passing made no sound
You were the white man
And you drove me in the ground

Now I am a wooden indian
Standing silent in the rain
Swear with my grandfather's father
We're going to rise again

Na na na

Now I was a red man
I was proud, I was strong
You were the white man
And you stole away my home

Now I am a wooden indian
Standing silent in the rain
Swear with my grandfather's father
We're going to rise again

All My Quiet Places

All My Quiet Places


Stillness and quiet is such a rarity these days

The herds of cars and people rush on by me
To their daily destination of chaos and disorder
As I sit on a rock and watch them pass

There is no slowness in this world today
Only panic and stress formed out of our own mistakes
And I sit on a rock and watch them pass

But quiet places lay hidden in the deserts and forests
And beside rushing, snow-fed streams along mossy-green tapestries
While I lay on a rock and watch its waters pass

I cherish all my quiet places

Early Morning Conversation in Baltimore

Early Morning Conversation in Baltimore-Waiting for a Flight

I was sitting alone in a Baltimore Airport Bar....early morning, waiting for my flight....and a young soldier walked up to my table......

"Mind if I sit here? The bar is kind of full."

"No problem, man. Have a seat. I'm just hanging out."

"I've been flying all night. Hope you don't mind if I have a beer. I know it's early but it's been a long night."

"No problem with me....I might even join you! My flight is delayed because of weather down south....just trying to get home."

"Me too", he said....but I knew with his words, there was more to this statement. This guy had not seen home for a long time. And that's all he was looking for.

"Where've you been?", I asked....knowing what the answer would be....and hoping I was wrong.

"Iraq, man. 2 years for me. I've got a kid that I saw when he was born......he's walking now.....and I've never seen that, other than the pictures my wife could sneak through."

"Wow! How do you feel about that?"

He took a sip of his beer...and paused for a minute.

"I'm a little scared, man! I mean, you know....not the kind of scared like when I was in Iraq......it's different, you know?"

I took my last sip of coffee.....and waited for him to continue.

"You know.....it's kind of weird. I never pictured myself as a Dad....but here I am.....and I haven't been there. I haven't been there at all. I mean....what is the kid gonna think about me?"

"I think you'll know what to do when you finally meet up with him."......I had no idea what I was saying.

"That's easy enough to say......but when I touch down in Charlotte and see my girl....and my little man.....well....what do I do?"

I ordered this guy another beer......and one for me.....I could tell this wasn't gonna be easy.

"Be yourself.......give your wife a long hug and kiss......and take that boy in your arms.....it'll all come to you after that."

He paused for a minute.....took a sip of his new beer and sat there. The silence was deafening.

"You sure?"

"Man, I don't know.....never been there. I mean, I'm a veteran but I just can't relate to the hell you've been through.....and now you're coming home!"

"You're a veteran? Cool! When did you serve?"

"'78 to '82.....Navy. Iran hostage situation"

"Wow! That's before I was born! I read about that in History Class"

"Yea....thanks!"

"Sorry, man. I mean....well you sort of understand....right?"

I couldn't lie to this guy....it was different.

"No, man. I can't."

"Oh......ok......but you can see my concerns, right?"

"Yup.....I'm a guy just like you.....and life scares the shit out of me......even though I've not been in a war."

"It ain't the war, man.....it's my kid. Will he understand me down the road?"

I took a sip of beer and thought for a moment......and thought again.

"He will.....you just have to talk to him.....from your first day and going on...and don't forget your wife.....she's been there too!"

We took our last sips of beer.....he picked up his bag and I picked up my laptop.

"You good?", I asked.

"Yea, man....thanks for the seat....and the beer. I think I'm gonna be ok. I hope so, anyway."

"You will be....."....and I started to turn to my exit.....

"Hey man.....thanks. I don't think I could face this last flight without you letting me taking that seat."

"That seat is always waiting for a man in fear........and you'll beat that fear and find love in North Carolina."

"Peace my friend....I'll probably never see you again....but I'll never forget you.....you're ok."

"Peace to you, my friend.....now go find your love......and your son."

I left for Gate D17.....my new-found friend left for life.

Flo' n' Flo'

Flo' and Flo'
From clouds on high
And snows on top
Life she takes it
And forward she flows

Deposits she makes
Unlike those we humans long for
For what she passes
Is life

We watch her in wonder
And we wander with her watch
Treking along her banks
Of rocks and blossoms and life

Flo' and flo' sweet river
Flo' 'til you end
And flo' more
For all in all....you flo' for us

Seeds

SEEDS
Dry and dusty.

Flat and floating.

The Seeds drop from the cathedrals that surround the deep valleys.

And softly lay on the dying leaves.

The rains of November push them to their ultimate destiny.

With colours hidden and textures enclosed.

Trees

The Old Man and the Old Yellow Bike

The Old Man on the Old Yellow Bike
A Tribute to Dr. James Steven Johnson, Jr.

For as long as I've lived in Oak Ridge, the highlight of my day was to see the old man on the old, yellow bike. Several times a day I would see him riding his ancient bike up and down West Outer Drive....and he was always smiling. There were days when work or family matters would really get me down. And then, as I walked up the driveway to get the day's paper and mail, I would see this old man. I would smile and wave....he just kept peddling his bike....and would always pass on his unbelievable smile to me. That smile, coming from an old man on a bike, would wash away all my bad thoughts for the day. It was a daily ritual....unless it was raining. But with the first passing of the rain he would be out on the road again....peddling and smiling....and always looking forward. He never spoke but always acknowledged your wave or smile with his....and forward he would keep pushing.

Several days ago I heard through a church friend that this man had died. He died in the front yard of this family....doing what he loved to do.....riding his old, yellow bike.

I never knew his name, where he lived or what kind of life he had lived. He never spoke and we never introduced ourselves. I just waved and he just smiled.

I learned about this man through his obituary. And I am sorry we never got to know one another. But the memories I have of this old man will always be implanted in my mind.

Farewell, Mr. Johnson. I will miss your smile.....and your old, yellow bike.

September, She Comes

She breathes a heavy sigh....
A long breath for a long wait......
August gives in.......
And late summer storms roar through.....

She walks among her old friends.....
Calling out for those left behind....
Of books and papers...and old, lost friends...

She sneaks behind the olden bushes....
And slinks beside the ancient chimney....
Awakenend by the sudden blast....
Of trumpets on the battle field.....

"Arise", she calls out....
"Arise and awaken....I summon you now"....
"For the boys of Autumn have come to replace.....the Boys of Summer"........

And with one, lone whistle you hear........

"Touchdown!"........

Swept Under My Rug

Occasionally you have to do a little house cleaning. I was amazed at what I recently found....Swept Under My Rug......

A necklace....with the other half in the jewelry box of a long, lost girlfriend.

A coin from Greece...the night I discovered Ouzo.

A pressed Dogwood Flower, in a Bible, from a long walk in the woods.

Old concert tickets....for The Doobie Brothers, Allman Brothers, Grand Funk, Led Zeppelin, George Harrison, Seals & Crofts and Elton John.

Rock posters from a room that will never be slept in again.

An old slide rule....used by my Dad at Southern Tech.

An old calculator used by me in high school chemistry.

A high school letter, full of medals....signifying nothing.

The label from a bottle of Italian wine...the day some sailors decided to look over the bay of Naples....and watch the sunset....without the help of a bar....or girls.

And an old Yamaha guitar....with so many stories....yet untold.

Summer's Lament

The freshness of Spring wanders so lonely through the heat
And then she passes to beyond the edge
A new face appears and calls on the others

"Rise up", she says, "And show all your goods."

"Rise up, I say....for the butterflies and the bees...
The hummingbirds and squirrels have emptied their cupboards....
They have come to visit your stores!"

And suddenly the old ones rise.....and take the stage.
The ones who return each midsummer and tempt the travelers
With exotic treats and perches to rest on

But slowly they pass.....they wither in the heat
The rains disappear and the earth separates as its skin parches to nothingness
And the weary travelers move on.....

"Come back", she cries. "We can offer more, if you wish!"
But her voice bounces off the barks of the trees....
And the withered petals of the old ones

And Summer slowly fades into Autumn.....
A time for rest...
Before the long, cold sleep......

Look Way Back

Sometimes I have to look way back
And force my mind to wander
To old dirt roads and rusty nails
And Coke bottles to squander

To midnight treks along the creek
And summer storms that thunder
Or baseball games with the neighborhood gang
Or old graveyards to plunder

Then up the road to Sharon's house
To ride horses on the trails
Or sitting with Stash up on the hill
And watch him twitch his tail

Back out to the garden in a hot, July sun
To water the tomato plants
"Quit whining, boys", ol' Dad would say
As he'd pull up on his pants

To find a turtle or a frog or two
And ask where they are going
And yet another summer day ends
With Autumn winds a blowin'

The days grow shorter and time runs fast
As school rapidly sneaks upon us
We gathered paper, pens and books
And wait for the yellow bus

Those days are gone, and long since passed
But visions come to see me
I wish I had those days back now
But that can never be

Sometimes I have to look way back
And force my mind to wander
To old dirt roads and rusty nails
And Coke bottles to squander

Now What?

We both sit there in the living room
Pretending to watch tv
And show some interest in what happened today
Are we listening?

"Good supper, Mom" or "Good supper Dad"
As though there is a crowd in the room
We respond generously
And continue to eat

We take the "old people's" walk
Through my gardens and flowers
Through my own made meadows
And past the dogs

They look at us through their confused eyes
"Where is your youth?", they ask
And we slowly walk towards their prison
Set free only in the afternoon

We settle into bed
You with your book and me with the TV
Egyptian Mummies or Star Gate?
Or do I roll over and look for sleep?

Now what?
We did what we set out to do, right?
Now what?
It's lonely in "this ol' house".....

Go to sleep, Juniper........
I'll see you in the morning........

Our Pastures Begin

And so it begins.....

A new dawn and a new becoming......

Where did the little feet go?

Where did the never-ending questions about life wander?

They left suddenly, on a day that was dreaded.......

A day we longed for yet and yet hoped would never come.....

They now pave their own lives

Searching for what we could not find.......

Solitude? Peace? Hope?

We now pass the torch to those who may be able to do.......

What we only hoped for.......

We wish you peace!

Again, the morning

She comes too early
And sometimes too late

She beckons me to call on a new birth
And I restrain.......

Why do I resisit?
Why do I continue?

I long for simplicity.....
I long for the land.......

I long for a peace that can't be found...and no once else can provide

I have to find that on my own......

And peace I will discover...........

And on my own terms...............

Ever The Spring

There is one moment in time that is constant
And the moment is the Spring

Spring is reliable
Spring is sometimes slow to show
But show she does

The purples and blues
The reds and pinks
And yellow........

I love Spring........
My efforts from the last fall
Are abundant in the show
And the show goes on for ever on

Can you taste the fragrances?
Can you feel the rebirth?
Can you live?

I live for Spring and all her luxuries.......
And I am always amazed the surprises in store......

For this year......
And the coming years........

Minstrel from Galilee

Minstrel from Galilee

He toured the land with music in his words
Attracting both young and old
While fires raged backstage

He talked of peace while war drew near
And never lifted a sword
While fires raged backstage

His following were often poor
Or homeless or rejected
While fires raged backstage

He led them down another way
And only asked that they listen
While fires raged backstage

He left them crying on a hill
And parted with forgiveness
While fires raged backstage

He promised a reunion tour
And has restrung his guitar
As the fires still rage backstage

Age

Age
Jim Croce

I’ve been up and down and around and ’round and back again
I’ve been so many places I can’t remember where or when
And my only boss was the clock on the wall and my only friend
Never really was a friend at all

I’ve traded love for pennies, sold my soul for less
Lost my ideals in that long tunnel of time
I’ve turned inside out and around about and back and then
Found myself right back where I started again

Once I had myself a million, now I’ve only got a dime
The diff’rence don’t seem quite as bad today
With a nickel or a million, I was searching all the time
For something that I never lost or left behind

I’ve traded love for pennies, sold my soul for less
Lost my ideals in that long tunnel of time
I’ve turned inside out and around about and back and then
Found myself right back where I started again

And now I’m in my second circle and I’m headin’ for the top
I’ve learned a lot of things along the way
I’ll be careful while I’m climbin’ ’cause it hurts a lot to drop
When your down nobody gives a damn anyway

I’ve traded love for pennies, sold my soul for less
Lost my ideals in that long tunnel of time
I’ve turned inside out and around about and back and then
Found myself right back where I started again

Daylight Again

Daylight Again
Stephen Stills

Daylight again
Following me to bed
I think about a hundred years ago
How my Fathers bled

I think I see a valley
Covered with bones in blue
All the brave soldiers that cannot get older
Been asking after you

Hear the past a' calling
From Armageddon's side
When everyone's talking and no one
Is listening
How can we decide

Do we find the cost of freedom
Buried in the ground
Mother Earth will swallow you
Lay your body down.

When I Was 10

So long ago and yet I remember
I was 10 in 1968...a year of troubling turmoil.....

*Nixon was elected President and his "faithful" sidekick VP was Spiro Agnew

*There were rumors of The Beatles having problems...talk of their break-up began

*Flower children controlled San Francisco....and 14th Street in Atlanta

*"The Great Speckled Bird" newspaper was the talk of the town in Atlanta

*Martin Luther King was gunned down in Memphis

*Robert Kennnedy was gunned down in LA

*David Crosby and Stephen Stills begin to play guitars together

*Soviet Union forces invade Czechoslovakia

*North Korea seizes the USS Pueblo, claiming the ship was spying

*In Viet Nam, the Tet Offensive begins

*Classical Gas by Mason Williams is released

*Boeing 747 made its maiden flight

*London Bridge sold to Robert McCullough for £1 million

*Helen Keller dies in her sleep in Connecticut

*Saddam Hussein becomes the Vice Chairman of the Revolutionary Council in Iraq after a coup d'état

*US spacecraft Apollo 8 enters orbit around the moon

Seems pretty lame today, doesn't it?

The Christians and the Pagans

The Christians and the Pagans
Dar Williams

Amber called her uncle, said "We're up here for the holiday,
Jane and I were having Solstice, now we need a place to stay."
And her Christ-loving uncle watched his wife hang Mary on a tree,
He watched his son hang candy canes all made with red dye number three.
He told his niece, "It's Christmas Eve, I know our life is not your style,"
She said, "Christmas is like Solstice, and we miss you and its been awhile,"

So the Christians and the Pagans sat together at the table,
Finding faith and common ground the best that they were able,
And just before the meal was served, hands were held and prayers were said,
Sending hope for peace on earth to all their gods and goddesses.

The food was great, the tree plugged in, the meal had gone without a hitch,
Till Timmy turned to Amber and said, "Is it true that you're a witch?"
His mom jumped up and said, "The pies are burning," and she hit the kitchen,
And it was Jane who spoke, she said, "It's true, your cousin's not a Christian,"
"But we love trees, we love the snow, the friends we have, the world we share,
And you find magic from your God, and we find magic everywhere."

So the Christians and the Pagans sat together at the table,
Finding faith and common ground the best that they were able,
And where does magic come from? I think magic's in the learning,
'Cause now when Christians sit with Pagans only pumpkin pies are burning.

When Amber tried to do the dishes, her aunt said, "Really, no, don't bother."
Amber's uncle saw how Amber looked like Tim and like her father.
He thought about his brother, how they hadn't spoken in a year,
He thought he'd call him up and say, "It's Christmas and your daughter's here."
He thought of fathers, sons and brothers, saw his own son tug his sleeve, saying,
"Can I be a Pagan?" Dad said, "We'll discuss it when they leave."

So the Christians and the Pagans sat together at the table,
Finding faith and common ground the best that they were able,
Lighting trees in darkness, learning new ways from the old, and
Making sense of history and drawing warmth out of the cold.

The Return of the Hummingbirds!

The hummers are coming! The hummers are coming!

This is one of my favorite times of the year. Time changes, spring flowers are abundant and the annual migration of the hummingbirds is in full swing. They have already crossed over the border of Georgia and Tennessee and are headed my way.

To track their northern migration progess, go to:

http://www.hummingbirds.net/map.html

Enjoy......

Things We Say Today That Would Have Been Alien in 1976

I was thinking about language yesterday and decided to compose a list of common phrases today that would have sounded so strange when I graduated from high school in 1976. Here you go........

Shutdown Windows and Reboot.
How much memory do you have?
Hey, gas was only $2.50 a gallon today!
Have you considered outsourcing that line?
I was IMing my friend last night and.......
Scan that in pdf and email it as an attachment.
After you swipe your card, just enter your PIN.
Why don't you try Googling it?
You can double your miles if you stay over to Saturday.
My IPOD isn't fully charged.
I did wireless at Starbucks.
Did you read his Blog yesterday?
Haven't you checked your email today?
I'll bet WalMart has it cheaper.
I wonder if Homeland Security is on top of that?
Can you burn me a copy of that?
I sent it by PayPal!
I beat Spider 5 times yesterday!
Would you like that Biggie-Sized?
Viagra would help that "little" problem.......
Are you "practicing" safe-sex?
Just download it from Napster.
Run, OJ, Run....(ok, that one actually made sense in '76).
Dude, you gotta Dell.
What's your cell number?
Can you set us up on conference call?
FEMA blew it!
Just hit Ctrl-Alt-Del...but only once.
Man, I'm covered up in Spam!
Time for a power lunch.
I'll have a Sam Adams.
Did you do prenups?
I pinged him but he wasn't in.
Are your virus definitions up-to-date?
Just send her a text message.

And so it goes.........

When the Rain Falls Cold

Winter slowly recedes into Spring
With rains that chill the soul
Fires still burn in the old, rock hearth
Steam still collects inside on the window sills

Buds of colour emerge from winter's grip
Softly, they explode into rainbows
Silently brushing the canvas
And perfuming the cool, night air

Fingers of ice collect on the green leaves
And melt into the decaying leaves
They fall into the warmth of the earth
And are not seen again

Teams of goldfinch huddle around the feeder
Taking in the last of the free meals
Cardinals show their new fashion
And the humming birds stare into the glass

Birdbaths overflow into the hostas
Redbuds turn lavender
Buttercups pop up
And the Lenten Rose bows down to her children

The Reliable Friend

She creeps into my life
When the crisp, late winter mornings
Meander into the warmth of an early spring afternoon

She brings me new hope
When the death of coldness silences my senses
And revives my numbness from February

She wanders through my gardens
Searching for the path to walk this season
And lays her visions deeply into the blankets of old, rusty leaves

She spreads her orange rays across the new seedlings
And wakes them from their months of laziness
Her arms are raised as she conducts her orchestra of youth

She is as reliable as age
She returns every year....and always on time
Welcome Old Sol...my True Reliable Friend

I Believe.....

More things I believe....
~With apologies to Jeff Foxworthy and Larry the Cable Guy~

I believe most Americans get their exercise walking up and down the snack food aisle at WalMart.

I believe "W" is proof that evolution didn't pan out in Texas.

I believe that light bulbs have built-in self-destruct timers designed to execute at 2AM when you have to go to the bathroom.

I believe there are aliens inside me and they come out of my belly button at midnight to move my furniture around.

I believe cats are interstellar terrorists.

I believe traffic lights are over-rated.

I believe Pat Robertson should run for president....in Iraq.

I believe the basketball season has been on-going for 20 years.

I believe books have too many words and not enough pictures.

I believe convenience stores are not very convenient.

I believe toe nails serve no useful purpose and should be banned.

I believe the US Post Office should require their employees to pass an English test.

I believe aspirin is the leading cause of headaches.

I believe lawyers should not be allowed to breed.

I believe the internet causes cancer in laboratory mice.

I believe Bob Dylan is still on tour.

I believe Billy Mays (Oxy-Clean Ka-Boom commericials) should stop shouting at me.

I believe teachers should be required to take a polygraph test and THEN be allowed to teach the truth.

I believe Congress members should have Social Security taxes taken out of their paycheck.

I believe there are WAY too many types of printer ink cartridges.

I believe the numbers on a telephone should be aligned identical to those on a calculator.

I believe Thanksgiving should be expanded to a week-long holiday...and there should be a football game playing around the clock.

I believe the work week should be Saturday and Sunday and the weekend should be Monday through Friday.

I believe paper clips annoy me.

I believe Spam (the "food") does not have an expiration date.

I believe the toilet handle is on the wrong side of the tank.

I believe Frank Zappa ate too much Yellow Snow.

I believe God is frustrated....and she's getting annoyed.

Walkin' Down Main Street

I remember.....

Hangin' out in Gilbert's Garage on Johnson Street
The ol' pipe-stove in the back of the garage
And the pile of coal off to the side of the office
The apple trees and the pecan trees
And cats........

Walkin' in Cofer Brothers Store
The dirt floor in the front
And the squeaky, wooden floors in the back
The old, oak barrel that held the pickles
The peppermint stick candy for a penny a piece

Cruisin' through Brookton's
The only place in town that sold bellbottom jeans
And the shirts of flowers and rose gardens
And an electronic cash register

Wonderin' through Allen Pharmacy, where I worked as a teenager
The old remedies on the shelf under the Rexall Brand
Mr. Cagle in the back of the store working on another ancient watch
Sittin' in the waiting area and playing checkers with the Veterans

Walkin' under Farrell's gas station overhang and smelling the gas from the pumps
Hangin' out with the guys who pumped the gas and changed the oil
Puttin' pennies in the gumball machine...2 for one penny!

Dreamin' through Crowley's furniture store
Thinkin' about that first apartment and how that lamp would look in the corner
Thinkin' the fabric on that sofa burns my eyes
Lookin' at the price tags and hurrying out the front door

Jumpin' cross the railroad tracks
Thinkin' 'bout the time the Goatman came to town
Or when the train wreck evacuated the town
Or puttin' pennies on the track before the train came through town
To squash 'em and put 'em in my pockets

Landin' up in the ol' feed store
Where the men of the town gathered to buy their seeds for the spring planting
And the Mary Jane candies..oh, the Mary Jane candies
And yet more checker boards.....

Endin' up on Bruce Street
A place you weren't suppose to go..."you can't go there, white-boy"
And listenin' to the ol' black men playin' their blues
On banged-up, Woolworth's guitars
And wantin' to understand...and to dance!

I miss my ol' Main Street
But she is gone.........
She is gone.............

I was walkin' down Main Street
And I remember.......
Lord, don't ever take this away from me!

Good Night, Lithonia......we hardly knew ye!

Trouble in the Fields

Trouble in the Fields
Nanci Griffith & Rick West


Baby I know that we've got trouble in the fields
When the bankers swarm like locust out there turning away our yield
The trains roll by our silos, silver in the rain
They leave our pockets full of nothing
But our dreams and the golden grain

Have you seen the folks in line downtown at the station
They're all buying their ticket out and talking the great depression
Our parents had their hard times fifty years ago
When they stood out in these empty fields in dust as deep as snow

And all this trouble in our fields
If this rain can fall, these wounds can heal
They'll never take our native soil
But if we sell that new John Deere
And then we'll work these crops with sweat and tears
You'll be the mule I'll be the plow
Come harvest time we'll work it out
There's still a lotta love, here in these troubled fields

There's a book up on the shelf about the dust bowl days
And there's a little bit of you and a little bit of me
In the photos on every page
Now our children live in the city and they rest upon our shoulders
They never want the rain to fall or the weather to get colder

You'll be the mule I'll be the plow
Come harvest time we'll work it out
There's still a lotta love, here in these troubled fields

Boots of Spanish Leather

Boots of Spanish Leather
Bob Dylan

Oh, I'm sailin' away my own true love,
I'm sailin' away in the morning.
Is there something I can send you from across the sea,
From the place that I'll be landing?

No, there's nothin' you can send me, my own true love,
There's nothin' I wish to be ownin'.
Just carry yourself back to me unspoiled,
From across that lonesome ocean.

Oh, but I just thought you might want something fine
Made of silver or of golden,
Either from the mountains of Madrid
Or from the coast of Barcelona.

Oh, but if I had the stars from the darkest night
And the diamonds from the deepest ocean,
I'd forsake them all for your sweet kiss,
For that's all I'm wishin' to be ownin'.

That I might be gone a long time
And it's only that I'm askin',
Is there something I can send you to remember me by,
To make your time more easy passin'.

Oh, how can, how can you ask me again,
It only brings me sorrow.
The same thing I want from you today,
I would want again tomorrow.

I got a letter on a lonesome day,
It was from her ship a-sailin',
Saying I don't know when I'll be comin' back again,
It depends on how I'm a-feelin'.

Well, if you, my love, must think that-a-way,
I'm sure your mind is roamin'.
I'm sure your heart is not with me,
But with the country to where you're goin'.

So take heed, take heed of the western wind,
Take heed of the stormy weather.
And yes, there's something you can send back to me,
Spanish boots of Spanish leather.

The February Snow Angel 

February's Winter Rose

February's Winter Rose

The dark days of January fold into the past

And with the subtle transition comes new meaning

The coming of the new Spring

The early announcement of things to come

As the Lenten emerges from the now brown and crumbling leaves

Its strength, greater than winter's mighty, cold winds, shows perserverance

Its wisdom, greater than the Psalms of years gone by, shows depth

Its courage, greater than the peoples who once walked this Ridge, shows stamina

Its beauty, greater than Aphrodite, shows the vibrancy of nature....in all her glory

And so the Lenten Rose has once again risen from the cold, frozen soil

And reminds us of the coming......

Lenten Rose

And Then She Waltzed Away

Snow fell that day and its melting covered the roads and trees with ice
As the waltz began
With every new word a life began
She danced and sang the songs she heard around her
And she waltzed.....

The days became weeks
Weeks turned into years
With every new story a life continued
And she waltzed.....

Words of colour and paragraphs of images
Blossomed onto the pages of her own stories
She listened through the ages and captured the thoughts in ink
And she waltzed.....

Faded and wrinkled pages of tales left long ago
Can be found in every drawer
Unfinished thoughts and symphonies wrestling with the spaces
And she waltzed.....

The lilac room lies still today as the rains of January pour in
The images captured on film and parchment lay scattered across the old dwelling
She left them as they were
And then she waltzed away.....

Telegraph Road

Telegraph Road
Dire Straits

A long time ago came a man on a track
Walking thirty miles with a pack on his back
And he put down his load where he thought it was the best
Made a home in the wilderness

He built a cabin and a winter store
And he ploughed up the ground by the cold lake shore
And the other travellers came riding down the track
And they never went further, no, they never went back

Then came the churches then came the schools
Then came the lawyers then came the rules
Then came the trains and the trucks with their loads
And the dirty old track was the telegraph road

Then came the mines - then came the ore
Then there was the hard times then there was a war
Telegraph sang a song about the world outside
Telegraph road got so deep and so wide

Like a rolling river. . .
And my radio says tonight it’s gonna freeze
People driving home from the factories
There’s six lanes of traffic
Three lanes moving slow. . .

I used to like to go to work but they shut it down
I got a right to go to work but there’s no work here to be found
Yes and they say we’re gonna have to pay what’s owed
We’re gonna have to reap from some seed that’s been sowed
And the birds up on the wires and the telegraph poles
They can always fly away from this rain and this cold
You can hear them singing out their telegraph code
All the way down the telegraph road

You know I’d sooner forget but I remember those nights
When life was just a bet on a race between the lights
You had your head on my shoulder you had your hand in my hair
Now you act a little colder like you don’t seem to care

But believe in me baby and I’ll take you away
From out of this darkness and into the day
From these rivers of headlights these rivers of rain
From the anger that lives on the streets with these names
’cos I’ve run every red light on memory lane
I’ve seen desperation explode into flames
And I don’t want to see it again. . .

.......from all of these signs saying sorry but we’re closed
All the way down the telegraph road

The Snow Covered Path

I woke up in the woods today.....
It was quiet....it was cold and it was still.....
It was winter.

There is little that stirs in the cold.....
There is little that you can see...in the winter......
Life has gone underground.

Underground......
The warmth does not change.....
It remains constant.......

And where else, in life, is constant more constant than in the woods?

A Ripple In Winter

There are years when winter is shy.
Winter decides, in his own time, when to reveal his power.

January is always a subtle time to show his strength.
You can march into your gardens, with weapons in tow,
Demanding respect and allegiance.

But power comes as it will....

Your demands are laughed at......
Your respect is laughed at............
Your allegiance is laughed at........
YOU are laughed at.......................

Did you really believe you could control the forces you cannot see?
Did you believe you could develope your own evolution?

Then you, my friend, are a fool......
Back-up and look again.......you are NOT in control. You are only the caretaker.