1.2.12

Nothing Changed Except The Place Of Things




Gathered in the central courtyard, he gazes toward the setting of his youth – its lifeline leading always to the heart. His outline deepens even as the old ideas wear away. Intimations of love transfigure the poverty and humility his voice so sweetly implies. Forgotten images laden with dew are summoned to the forefront of his mind. It is peaceful there in that well-proportioned darkness. As awareness works its lively trick, burrowing deep into a mind of contemplation, his words become steeped in a heavenly peace. He skips along amid the weathered seasons, humming his lullabies with a kind of grave excitement, while unearthing a quick lighthearted smile sure to appease. Shadows sway as the melody plays while overhead his doves gracefully soar, becoming a blustery deluge that slowly crowns the horizon. A nakedness hangs in arbitrary space of the rhythms rise and fall. His wise technique remains steady and sincere, touching souls with words so sensuously voiced. We adore the passionate intelligence that underlies each of his songs. We, the meek and the mild delight in the pleasure of his sentence, each intimate disclosure rote with an honest bearing in the soul. They say this man of vision living in a suit is going home now, to where it’s better than before, he’s going home sometime tomorrow without the costume that he wore.  

. . . . .

O see the darkness yielding

That tore the light apart

Come healing of the reason

Come healing of the heart

~ Leonard Cohen

No comments: