I haven’t found a good rhythm today. The clock felt like Sergeant Hartman, in Stanley Kubrick’s Full Metal Jacket, harassing me on to the next thing needing done. The WiFi developed a stutter, and my phone went dead before I could end a conversation.
There were tokens of more than this: like silver pennies at my feet; lost coins recovered again. Even now, from my window I can see the light gathering colour against the horizon, as peach dissolves to a burnt orange and indigo deepens like a falcon hood covering the day. Beautiful.
“To behold beauty dignifies your life; it heals you and calls you out beyond the smallness of your own self- limitation to experience new horizons. To experience beauty is to have your life enlarged.”John O’donohue, Divine beauty: the invisible embrace.
looking out the window, something in me stirs to life again, steps out of from a days empty shell.
I wrote the song above many moons ago and it plays on the landscape of the barren and the beautiful. It asks Jeremiah’s question: Is there a balm in Gilead? Something to heal me whole.