Wednesday, May 31, 2017

Onward - ( a reflection inspired by the movie "Youth" )




"Contained in Everything I Do
There's a love I feel for you
Proclaimed in everything I write
You're the light, burning brightly
Onward through the night
Onward through the night of my life."
 - Onward , "Yes', C. Squire

 “We were talking, about the love that's gone so cold and the people, 

Who gain the world and lose their soul  Then you may find, peace of mind, is waiting there  And the time will come when you see we're all one, 
And life flows on within and without you”
       - Within Without You, G. Harrison


"You say that emotions are overrated.Emotions are all we've got."
               - Mick, "Youth"

Someone once suggested that that light at the end of this long meandering up and down tunnel doesn’t get any smaller with the passage of time. At what point did that original innocence fade from view behind us? What is it that tries and sometimes succeeds to dampen that once holy flame of enthusiasm? Where did that trusted lifelong companion go? Was there a specific voice that encouraged or tempted me to take that one specific path and he another? How is it that some continue to hold the hands of a loved one while others feel they need to traverse every step alone? Are we quick to forget the power of touch? Are we quick to forget the simple songs? Were not the simple songs all we have? Can we keep our heads up and hearts opened as we move onward through the night of our lives?

No thing lasts forever does it? Some trees fall more quickly than others. Broken barren branches, remnants of a glory that once was, are now strewn across the field and is fuel for the next pilgrim along the way eventually becoming ashes to nurture the earth where that roaming fire had burned through the days and nights. Some giving-trees seem to continue to grow strong and grand with seasonal rebirth. Others are cut down in their prime becoming trunks of rest for tired worn out pilgrims. Still, other trees perpetuate constant leaves as shade source of freedom for launching for Frost boys swinging as they lean towards heaven. He prayed that he could be one of those branches on a tree of Merton.

His meditation “There is no fear for my own last day but the heart trembles with the slightest consideration of the passing of the one’s I love and for the last breath of those who may have loved me. “

The purest innocence of babies and youth at honest play; the intoxicating freedom discovered in boundless music; the presence of love, and the egoless carefree resilience of an uncorrupted authenticity are what we need to keep spirits alive while making way in our time worn weathered vessels. Listen to the larger voices calling and suddenly consideration that all this is just coincidence and strictly chance -  is proven to be na├»ve.


___________________________________________________________


Birches

When I see birches bend to left and right 
Across the lines of straighter darker trees, 
I like to think some boy's been swinging them. 
But swinging doesn't bend them down to stay 
As ice-storms do. Often you must have seen them 
Loaded with ice a sunny winter morning 
After a rain. They click upon themselves 
As the breeze rises, and turn many-colored 
As the stir cracks and crazes their enamel. 
Soon the sun's warmth makes them shed crystal shells 
Shattering and avalanching on the snow-crust— 
Such heaps of broken glass to sweep away 
You'd think the inner dome of heaven had fallen. 
They are dragged to the withered bracken by the load, 
And they seem not to break; though once they are bowed 
So low for long, they never right themselves: 
You may see their trunks arching in the woods 
Years afterwards, trailing their leaves on the ground 
Like girls on hands and knees that throw their hair 
Before them over their heads to dry in the sun. 
But I was going to say when Truth broke in 
With all her matter-of-fact about the ice-storm 
I should prefer to have some boy bend them 
As he went out and in to fetch the cows— 
Some boy too far from town to learn baseball, 
Whose only play was what he found himself, 
Summer or winter, and could play alone. 
One by one he subdued his father's trees 
By riding them down over and over again 
Until he took the stiffness out of them, 
And not one but hung limp, not one was left 
For him to conquer. He learned all there was 
To learn about not launching out too soon 
And so not carrying the tree away 
Clear to the ground. He always kept his poise 
To the top branches, climbing carefully 
With the same pains you use to fill a cup 
Up to the brim, and even above the brim. 
Then he flung outward, feet first, with a swish, 
Kicking his way down through the air to the ground. 
So was I once myself a swinger of birches. 
And so I dream of going back to be. 
It's when I'm weary of considerations, 
And life is too much like a pathless wood 
Where your face burns and tickles with the cobwebs 
Broken across it, and one eye is weeping 
From a twig's having lashed across it open. 
I'd like to get away from earth awhile 
And then come back to it and begin over. 
May no fate willfully misunderstand me 
And half grant what I wish and snatch me away 
Not to return. Earth's the right place for love: 
I don't know where it's likely to go better. 
I'd like to go by climbing a birch tree, 
And climb black branches up a snow-white trunk 
Toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more, 
But dipped its top and set me down again. 
That would be good both going and coming back. 
One could do worse than be a swinger of birches. 
    - Robert Frost




You Got the love ( Intro scene to the movie “Youth”)


Onward - Mark Kozelek , (Youth)


Just  - D. Lang (Youth)



Simple Song #3 – D. Lang (Youth)



Youth – The Movie Trailer





For a member of the band….


“One day I will find the right words and they will be simple”
        - Jack Kerouac

“The only truth is music”
       - Jack Kerouac


Amdg














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