Oh, for the love!

A Poem of Gratitude 

I hear words in clips and phrases that I unlawfully take ownership of.

They heal my soul and give relevance to my heart. 

And because such, they are mine now.

I'm so grateful for these:

Moments

Artists

Emotions

This ability to relate to others 
These talents that others have cultivated

Thank you Wilco, Ingrid, and Regina.

Thank you Stevie Nicks. Thank you Joni Mitchel- and God for that voice- and Van Morrison too. 

Thank you Brian Doyle, and my dear one Anne.

Thank you to the vibration of music, and the rhythm and cadence of careful words. Words,that no matter how heavy, make me feel lighter for the hearing of them. They remind me that I'm not alone. 
Thank you Rembrandt and Connelly and Hopper 

Songs and paintings and crafted word and voice and the way light enters through certain windows in certain buildings- they are all heartfelt prayer on my behalf.

I’m so grateful for art, in all its forms; Music especially! What is it about lyrics paired with melody? Lyrics are the message but melody is the bullet that blows past my thick skin, and my heart- no matter how hurt or guarded or stony- and lets the message sink in and take root.  

I have a list of songs that are significant to me. No doubt I’ll share a number of tunes on that list eventually, but today I wanted to share these Bright Eyes lyrics. I cry almost every time I earnestly listen to this song.  They remind me of how important it is to love and be compassionate towards other people. There have been many a day that someone has just “sat with me a while” or kept me company through “days so long and black.” This song is a description of empathy, compassion, and kindness. 

Bowl of Oranges

The rain, it started tapping on the window near my bed. There was a loophole in my dreaming,
so I got out of it. And to my surprise my eyes were wide and already open.
Just my nightstand and my dresser where those nightmares had just been.
So I dressed myself and left them, out into the gray streets.
But everything seemed different and completely new to me.
The sky, the trees, houses, buildings, even my own body.
And each person I encountered, I couldn't wait to meet.

I came upon a doctor who appeared in quite poor health.
I said "There is nothing I can do for you
you can't do for yourself."
He said "Oh yes you can. Just hold my hand. I think that would help."
So I sat with him a while and then I asked him how he felt.
He said, "I think I'm cured. No, in fact, I'm sure.
Thank you Stranger, for your therapeutic smile."

So that is how I learned the lesson that everyone is alone.
And your eyes must do some raining if you are ever going to grow.
But when crying don't help and you can't compose yourself.
It is best to compose a poem, an honest verse of longing or simple song of hope.
That is why I'm singing...
Baby don't worry cause now I got your back. And every time you feel like crying,
I'm gonna try and make you laugh. And if I can't, if it just hurts too bad,
then we'll wait for it to pass and I will keep you company
through those days so long and black.

And we'll keep working on the problem we know we'll never solve
Of Love's uneven remainders, our lives are fractions of a whole.
But if the world could remain within a frame like a painting on a wall.
Then I think we would see the beauty.
Then we would stand staring in awe at our still lives posed like a bowl of oranges,
like a story told by the fault lines and the soil.