Actually the particles of my Self transcended mundane time years ago,
but thanks for the reminder. ;-)
Thanks, a fav of mine to play!
On Sep 12, 2007, at 11:19 AM, TurquoiseB wrote:
Happy Birthday, Vaj.
I hope it's a good day for you up in Maine or
wherever you are. Here's the song I always
play for myself on my birthdays. I probably
will continue to do so till they drop the
big curtain:
I love the pounding of hooves
I love engines that roar
I love the wild music of waves on the shore
And the spiral perfection of a hawk when it soars
Love my sweet woman down to the core
There's roads and there's roads
And they call, can't you hear it?
Roads of the earth
And roads of the spirit
The best roads of all
Are the ones that aren't certain
One of those is where you'll find me
Till they drop the big curtain
Hear the wind moan
In the bright diamond sky
These mountains are waiting
Brown-green and dry
I'm too old for the term
But I'll use it anyway
I'll be a child of the wind
Till the end of my days
Little round planet
In a big universe
Sometimes it looks blessed
Sometimes it looks cursed
Depends on what you look at obviously
But even more it depends on the way that you see
Hear the wind moan
In the bright diamond sky
These mountains are waiting
Brown-green and dry
I'm too old for the term
But I'll use it anyway
I'll be a child of the wind
Till the end of my days
-- Bruce Cockburn, 24 December 1989. Tucson, Arizona
