There is a Pleasure in the Pathless Woods

"There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
There is society, where none intrudes,
By the deep sea, and music in its roar:
I love not man the less, but Nature more...."

- Lord Byron

Series of Dreams - Bob Dylan

I was thinking of a series of dreams
Where nothing comes up to the top.
Everything stays down where it's wounded
And comes to a permanent stop.
Wasn't thinking of anything specific,
Like in a dream, when someone wakes up and screams.
Nothing truly very scientific,
Just thinking of a series of dreams.


Thinking of a series of dreams
Where the time and the tempo drag,
And there's no exit in any direction
'Cept the one that you can't see with your eyes.
Wasn't making any great connections,
Wasn't falling for any intricate schemes.
Nothing that would pass inspection,
Just thinking of a series of dreams.


Dreams where the umbrella is folded,
And into the path you are hurled,
And the cards are no good that you're holding
Unless they're from another world.
In one, the surface was frozen.
In another, I witnessed a crime.
In one, I was running, and in another
All I seemed to be doing was climb
Wasn't looking for any special assistance,
Not going to any great extremes.
I'd already gone the distance,
Just thinking of a series of dreams.


Dreams where the umbrella is folded,
And into the path you are hurled,
And the cards are no good that you're holding
Unless they're from another world.
I'd already gone the distance,
Just thinking of a series of dreams.
Just thinking of a series of dreams.
Just thinking of a series of dreams.

-Bob Dylan

Endnote:

I also like the feel of taking the last word from each line and stringing them together... stark and striking as opposed to fluid and fuzzy... for what it's worth for me to tell you that.

sounds and vibrations

I want to write but would anyone want to read it? THAT is the question! I guess I'll just write because I feel like it. I'm listening to some great music and about to read to my girls and tuck them in bed. Right now it's David Gray's version of Ramona. What a great song. I can get lost in it. It runs through my body like electricity. After the girls are in bed at night, sometimes I just dance... I just play music and dance all alone in my living room... slow songs, fast songs, anything, whatever I feel like. I feel and soak in the music with my every sense. To some maybe that's silly. Why did I write any of this. I don't know. I guess I wanted to say a little something about myself that most people don't know. Show a little part of myself that's a little bit of a secret. But I need to go now and finish out the night. So Night night world. Maybe I'll talk about some more stuff later that I have the confidence that nobody will read (except maybe Chad... which is good, I love him reading what I have to say).

Simple

Simple is an air
a rest from the heaviness of complex living
It is a breath, a single color
a child's laugh
a moment of awkwardness between two strangers
makes well devised lives more human
Behind chaos is simplicity
it is the composition of the complex
an artist is a person with a desperate need
a life is the product of one decision laid upon another
Simple and peace are sisters
they often walk through life hand in hand
one holds out clarity
while the other expands to fill the welcome void left by bedlam
Simple is a starry night parallel with earth
It is a coffee break revelation
a hero realized in a neighbor's hospitality
Catastrophies and atrocities
simple underscores the beating heart of both
a tyrant's rise is built step by step
a tsunami's power
action by action
Simple is the design of invention
a final process in the quest for culmination
it is strung through life as a turn key
offering possibilities for the alert
So I speak to her quietly,
"Whisper to me of your secrets
I am keenly aware
Instruct me with your insight
I am listening with sagacity
confide in me forever
and fill me with your clandestine delights"