In a message dated 1/31/01 10:51:29 PM Eastern Standard Time,
[EMAIL PROTECTED] writes:
<< "I'm a burning hearth," he said
"People see the smoke
But no-one comes to warm themselves
Sloughing off a coat
And all my little landscapes
All my yellow afternoons
Stack up around this vacancy
Like dirty cups & spoons
No mercy, sweet Jesus!
No mercy from turbulent indigo."
----- >>
one of the reasons i like joni's songs is because so often they have reality
laced inside her arrangement of words. for example, the below quote is from
vincent himself:
There may be a great fire in our soul, yet no one ever comes to warm himself
at it, and the passers by only see a wisp of smoke coming through the
chimney, and go along their way. Look here, now what must be done? Must one
tend the inner fire, have salt in oneself, wait patiently yet with how much
impatience for the hour when somebody will come and sit down - maybe to stay?
Let him who believes in God wait for the hour that will come sooner or
later. v.v.g.
patrick
np. fishpump
