At the End of the Day

I've been here for the last ten minutes and tried to collect my thoughts into some form of cohesive pattern or process. No Luck, Chuck.

Everything is swirly and fetal and unformed, and the hour is late, the house quiet, the night soft.

The lake is warm already. I swam today. It was too warm to be refreshing and yet still somehow it was. I paddled about for an hour with geese and goslings and yellow jewel dragon flies and swallows and butterflies and the occasional loud buzz of boat out in the middle. I don't even remember what I thought about, or if I thought about anything at all.

Sometimes, you have a taste for something in your head, and you hope you can make it happen. Most times, it's not quite what you imagined it would be but sometimes, oh sometimes, it's even better than you hoped for. Tonight's dinner was exactly that for me. It was perfect, and delicious and hot and garlicy and spicy and asian and wonderful. I ate a lot of it.

My friend shared this link with me yesterday. It is heavenly. I think everyone should listen to it many times.

See? I told you nothing cohesive was happening today.


Pattie said...

one of my favorite songs.

Laura said...

I love having church with you(r spirit), Simon & Garfunkel, and the Holy Spirit!

Laura said...

I meant to add...it's pretty Chazown too:

Hello darkness, my old friend
I've come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence

In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone
'Neath the halo of a street lamp
I turned my collar to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence

And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more
People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening
People writing songs that voices never share
And no one dared
Disturb the sound of silence

"Fools", said I, "You do not know
Silence like a cancer grows
Hear my words that I might teach you
Take my arms that I might reach you"
But my words, like silent raindrops fell
And echoed
In the wells of silence

And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon god they made
And the sign flashed out its warning
In the words that it was forming
And the sign said, "The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls"
And whispered in the sounds of silence