The birds they sang
At the break of day
Start again
I heard them say
Don't dwell on what has passed away
Or what is yet to be
In the Turnersque light and fire of a morning under a waning moon there's a crow, random, irrelevant signage and the pyramids. Just another day in the desert.
Return to center urges the sign I meet on a recent day of respite where I took a little walk in a park. The weathered and fading words lie on the ground, well camouflaged, easy to miss. It is not clear to me whether they command or offer directional advice. We asked for signs/The signs were sent
I am on a trail in Lake Caballo State Park. This little walk was a tad unplanned, undertaken on impulse, after noticing a sign...we asked for signs...in a parking lot near the park entrance. And because I had nothing else to do, nowhere else to be at the time.
I find myself meandering without a map on a well maintained trail through creosote bush with the occasional opuntia.
There's an overlook with a bench and lovely view of Caballo lake and the familiar horizon of Caballo mountains, a view more often seen from water level in my kayak
The marked trail loops and meets itself ourobus style and there's me with feet committed to a path of eternal return. Meandering without a map, indeed, but enjoying the view, nothing else to do, nowhere else to be.
"We die. That may be the meaning of life. But we do language. That may be the measure of our lives.” Toni Morrison.
Anthem - Leonard Cohen
The birds they sang
At the break of day
Start again
I heard them say
Don't dwell on what has passed away
Or what is yet to be
Ah, the wars they will be fought again
The holy dove, she will be caught again
Bought and sold, and bought again
The dove is never free
Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in
We asked for signs
The signs were sent
The birth betrayed
The marriage spent
Yeah, and the widowhood
Of every government
Signs for all to see
I can't run no more
With that lawless crowd
While the killers in high places
Say their prayers out loud
But they've summoned, they've summoned up
A thundercloud
They're going to hear from me
Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in
You can add up the parts
But you won't have the sum
You can strike up the march
There is no drum
Every heart, every heart
To love will come
But like a refugee
Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in
Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in
That's how the light gets in
That's how the light gets in
Beautiful