Hippie Christmas

For old time sake...
dedicated to any "old hippies" out there.

Beware of Maya

Music should never be listened to with the ears only. You have to feel it with your spirit and take it into your heart. Carlos Santana once said some songs are like tattoos. Once you hear them they're a part of you.

This is nice song. Nice music. Gentle and slow. The lyrics are good too. But do you know what they mean? That's the question.

Written by George Harrison. Also popularized by Leon Russell. Here's Clapton's version.



There's a line in the song "Beware of Maya"

Maya has multiple meanings and is believed by some to be good and necessary. By others Maya is believed to keep us bound to an illusion and to earth, keeping us from fully awakening to the universe. That it represents the purely physical and mental reality in which our conscious selves have become entangled.

Just some food for thought, if you're so inclined.

Juxtapositions

There are so many things to say, yet I lack the ability (or perhaps it's the fortitude) to express them. Somewhere along the line, it seems the confidence to communicate the assorted thoughts and dispositions has all been diminished. A considerably afflicting state in which and with which to exist. One for which I have yet to find clear recourse or remedy.

To grant the freedom to speak as one will is a simple matter when one does not directly experience the resulting dejection, rejection or vacant response, nor suffers from the same affective vulnerabilities.

Against all that, there is the question of what thoughts to make known - which sentiments to reveal? Lamentations and jubilation, indignation and appeals all abound. They collide and mix in a swirling pools, as one has spilling liquid color in meandering stream. Red into yellow, blue into green, spinning themselves into shades of gold and aqua and purple. How can one distinguish the point at which one begins and the other ends? A mingling of emotions. The breaking apart and piecing together of heart and mind, body and soul.

Hope and despondency, expectancy and cold reality. It's an issue of juxtaposition. It creates a disarray that, as a result, produces and induces yet more to be spoken that, in turn, cannot be spoken. But I digress, so it seems the very matter which I strive to approach will have to wait for another day.

By Rachelle LeCount
Written some time ago

Other entries you might like: March 2009

The Wizard

Wow. I hadn't listened to this song in a long time. Reminds me of those years a long long time ago. Good stuff. I saw them live once, by the way. Great times.

Uriah Heep
The Wizard



He was the wizard
Of a thousand kings
And I chanced to meet him
One night wandering
He told me tales
And he drank my wine
Me and my magic man
Kinda feeling fine

He had a cloak of gold
And eyes of fire
And as he spoke
I felt a deep desire
To free the world
Of its fear and pain
And help the people
To feel free again

Why don't we listen to
The voices in our hearts
‘Cause then I know we'd find
We're not so far apart
Everybody's got to be happy
Everyone should sing
For we know the joy of life
The peace that love can bring

So spoke the wizard
In his mountain home
The vision of his wisdom
Means we'll never be alone
And I will dream of my magic night
And a million silver stars
That guide me with their light

Septarian Nodule

I never got around to posting a picture of this back during the summer. It's a pretty piece I purchased at Zuzu's Petals Rock Shop, in Helen GA. I keep thinking I should make a day trip up there soon. It's off season but that doesn't matter I don't think.

This one is roughly 7 inches by 8 inches.





Septarian's formed between 50 to 70 million years ago. As a result of volcanic eruptions, dead sea life was chemically attracted to the sediment around them, forming mud balls. As the ocean receded, the balls dried and cracked. Due to their bentonite content they also shrank in size, creating the cracks inside. As decomposed shells seeped down into the cracks in the mud balls, calcite crystals formed. The outer thin walls of calcite then transformed into aragonite. The name Septarian comes from the Latin word "septem", meaning seven, because the mud balls had a tendency to crack in 7 points in every direction, thereby creating the distinctive pattern these nodules exhibit. Septarians are composed of Calcite (The Yellow Centers), Aragonite (The Brown Lines), and the outer grey rock is Limestone.

You can read more about them HERE and HERE.

Put Your Lights On

"Put Your Lights On"
Carlos Santana



Hey now, all you sinners
Put your lights on, put your lights on
Hey now, all you lovers
Put your lights on, put your lights on

Hey now, all you killers
Put your lights on, put your lights on
Hey now, all you children
Leave your lights on, you better leave your lights on

Cause there's a monster living under my bed
Whispering in my ear
There's an angel, with a hand on my head
She say I've got nothing to fear

There's a darkness living deep in my soul
I still got a purpose to serve
So let your light shine, deep into my home
God, don't let me lose my nerve
Don't let me lose my nerve

Hey now, hey now, hey now, hey now
Wo oh hey now, hey now, hey now, hey now

Hey now, all you sinners
Put your lights on, put your lights on
Hey now, all you children
Leave your lights on, you better leave your lights on

Because there's a monster living under my bed
Whispering in my ear
There's an angel, with a hand on my head
She say's I've got nothing to fear
She says: La illaha illa Allah
We all shine like stars
She says: La illaha illa Allah
We all shine like stars
Then we fade away

The works of Rumi have held special meaning for me since I first read some of his poetry many years ago. Of course there's always the question of whether he's speaking of romantic love or divine love and spiritual matters and our connection to God and the spiritual realm. I say it's both and fittingly so.

-------------------------------------------------------

When the sweet glance of my true love caught my eyes,

Like alchemy, it transformed my copper-like soul.

I searched for Him with a thousand hands,

He stretched out His arms and clutched my feet.

From Thief of Sleep

The minute I heard my first love story,

I started looking for you, not knowing

how blind that was.

Lovers don't finally meet somewhere,

they're in each other all along.

From Essential Rumi

Love is from the infinite, and will remain until eternity.

The seeker of love escapes the chains of birth and death.

Tomorrow, when resurrection comes,

The heart that is not in love will fail the test.

From Thief of Sleep

When you find yourself with the Beloved, embracing for one breath,

In that moment you will find your true destiny.

Alas, don't spoil this precious moment

Moments like this are very, very rare.

From Thief of Sleep


Return to main page

Or see other posts you might like

Roused Dreamers
Folds of Eternity

The Two

when i discovery the two
i could not help but feel the intensity
it was round a campfire
where songs were sung by which i was muted
in awe of these strangers singing my story
the ones who never knew me
yet with unequaled harmony recalled my life
my ears and heart hung on every breath
an awkward moment tossed in
mercy, they said, mercy
it was an unforgiving honesty

i heard behind the tune
i stared into the core of my self
fascinated and fixated i listened
losses and crosses and strange circles
queens and kings mounting stairs
leading to towers and trees by the roadside
on the way to revelations

do you see them
arms open like shutters flung
releasing what would otherwise suffocate
it is the motion that lifts
emotions that carry
burning and burying
reaping and keeping
bare feet touch not the ground
clouded and crowded
the internal fight and the flight
they bring it all into focus
yet no one else can see
no one else can hear the same words

i wish i had said it myself
but then i might have missed the point
year upon year
they are always with me
is it they that conform or only myself
or is it merely dictated circumstance
the chance of romance or simply self fulfilling
was it from before or what was to come

and still today i am fixed on the memory
around the fire where bare feet leave traces of light
and i remain mute even now
in wonderment of the ones who never knew me
yet with unequaled harmony could recall my secrets
my heart hung on their breath
mercy, they cried, mercy
it is an unforgiving honesty
that flings open the shutters with a force that shivers
to the depths of my understanding
and i ask, do you see my heart wide open

Rachelle LeCount
11-2011

You might also like:

Prisoner's of Perception
Entries from January '09

Bad

"Bad" by U2



If you twist and turn away
If you tear yourself in two again
If I could, yes I would
If I could, I would
Let it go
Surrender
Dislocate
If I could throw this
Lifeless lifeline to the wind
Leave this heart of clay
See you break, break away
Into the night
Through the rain
Into the half-light
Through the flame

If I could through myself
Set your spirit free
I'd lead your heart away
See you break, break away
Into the light
And to the day

Oooh oooh, oooh oooh, oooh oooh oooh...

To let it go! And so fade away
To let it go!
And so fade away
I'm wide awake
I'm wide awake
Wide awake
I'm not sleeping, oh no, no, no

If you should ask then maybe they'd
Tell you what I would say
True colors fly in blue and black
Blue silken sky and burning flag
Colors crash, collide in blood shot eyes

Oooh oooh, oooh oooh, oooh oooh oooh...

If I could, you know I would
If I could, I would
Let it go

This desparation
Dislocation
Separation
Condemnation
Revelation
In temptation
Isolation
Desolation
Isolation

Let it go
And so fade away
To let it go, oh yeah
And so fade away
To let it go, oh No
And so fade away
I'm wide awake
I'm wide awake
Wide awake
I'm not sleeping oh no no

The Week

We got a lot done this last week but it barely put a dent in things. Nonetheless, it was progress.

I had appointments and errands today and have more tomorrow. Thursday we'll go visit family for a Thanksgiving meal.

I've been rocking a lot of music lately. Well... not that I don't listen to music every day but at times I'm IN it more than other times.

I'm thinking this is a boring post. I think I'm better in the mornings.

Oh well....

Ain't Nothin' Like Losin'

i knew a little boy who drowned one day
way back in the eighties
out with his parents on the lake
at one of those quarries
and it dawned on me, the way they say
there just ain't nothin' like losin'
what you can't live without

so they built themselves a picket wall
but never cared to fill it
with anything worth much at all
i guess they up and quit
maybe they were scared of another fall
cause there ain't nothin' like choosin'
what you can't live without

how those losses
they toss us
and they bring us back home
but we build fences
dig trenches
too scared to roam
outside where losses
they toss us

i was thinkin' of the boy who drowned back then
years ago when i was young
and i started thinkin' how time and again
we're robbed and flung
down, and ain't nothin' like losin'
what you can't live without

it's those losses
that toss us
but they bring us back home
where we build fences
dig trenches
and stay scared to roam
where there are losses
that toss us

- Rachelle LeCount

[based on a true story]

Roses in Snow (Rewrite)

There are wrinkles in time that lay like roses in snow.
I turn them around in my mind and take in their fragrance.
They hold the secret of my deliverance.
Creases of pink and red on fluffed linen.
Each fold and crease is a hint - a promise.
If only I could crawl between the petals.
I'd in another time - some other dimension.

by Rachelle LeCount
(rewritten 11-19-2011)

You might also like THESE

Know

did you know
if you speak the words
they may not be heard
and did you know
when you look too closely
your sight becomes blurred
and don't you know
if you let yourself love
you'll become like a bird
just so you'll know
what it means to be weightless
like promises stirred
and then you'll know

© Rachelle LeCount
November 2011

You might also like:
My Name is Diaphanous
Prisoners of Perception

Gestalt

As in Gestalt Theory, Gestalt Leap, Gestalt Psychology.

1. a configuration, pattern, or organized field having specific properties that cannot be derived from the summation of its component parts; a unified whole.

2. an instance or example of such a unified whole.

It's a rough sounding word, blunt and direct and almost cold seeming. Yet if one grabs hold of the actual concept it becomes itself. It's quite beautiful when you look beyond the individual dots and pieces and find the picture hidden behind them.

It's something I've lived with my entire life. It leaves me wondering about the differences and similarities between burdens and blessings.


"Dont Fade"
Toad the Wet Sprocket



Lyrics:
lead me well, don't clear my way
it's fascinating how the pallor can stay upon your face
when you are light like a little boy
flying kites and shouting to the world
you're shouting to the world your joy
don't fade, you're staying here with me
don't fade, i need to know that someone still believes

look around, see for yourself
he led us down and at the water's edge we knelt
petals in the lake and red upon my face
she's crying as we pray
and it all comes down to money, again
how could you forsake the love of god that way
don't fade, you're staying here with me
don't fade, i need to know that someone still believes
cause i still believe

You might also like:
A Song of Imagery

A List, Pink Floyd & Ardouizur

Happy Wednesday everybody. Looks like it might be a nice day. It's cloudy. We're expecting rain and mild temperatures. I like cloudy days.

So... I finally got around to updating my playlist again (right hand column). Currently there are 81 songs but that changes periodically as links go bad. But for anyone who cares to, enjoy!!

Thanksgiving will be upon us soon. I have decided that I won't be cooking the big mean I usually spend 2-3 days on. Instead we are accepting an invitation to join family and friends elsewhere. That suits me just fine as I feel I have so many irons in the fire right now. But I won't get into all that.

I have decided to do something I tend to resist and that is... MAKE A LIST.

I know. I know. I am surprised too and it's not without some apprehension. Still, I could end up surprised by the results. We'll see. The goal is to get some of those petty details out of my head by putting it on paper.

The problem is that my head gets full of details and things that need to be done and it hinders my productivity rather than helping. We managed to get the flooring down in the hobby room (ex bedroom) but the house has been in disarray since we began the remodeling about three years ago. I get too far ahead in my mind and energy gets spent on obsessing over what's not done rather than accepting the challenge to simply move forward with patience and trust that it will all get done sooner or later. So, it was suggested that a list might help provide some relief from the noise in my head.

Now... back to the topic of music and yesterday's mention of Zoroaster and Ardouizur, as I was spending some time floating through my own collection of music last night I ran across a live version of one of my favorite Pink Floyd tunes, Great Gig in the Sky (I say "favorite" but I have so many I am not sure the word is applicable). It struck me that the song connects to a couple of issues right now. One having to do with a study on speaking in tongues (a topic for another day). It also reminded me of that story of Ardouizur, as well as matters associated with the spirit of woman... the female spirit and related matters. As I was listening, I was take over by the depth and the meaning it has for me. There are no words to the song, but that's part of the beauty of it. Either you'll get it or you won't.

Ardouizur & Trower

Man alive, Trower gets to me something fierce at times. There's not much else to say about it. So I'll just hush while you listen. :)

In This Place
by Robin Trower




--------------------------------------------------

I was reminded today of the story of Zoroaster and Ardouizur and how profoundly beautiful it is. This is something I wrote a couple years back which was inspired by their story. Well, I'd have to say partly inspired by their story and partly inspired by other things.

Name Me

Name me thy immortal soul,
And I shall declare I am more than myself.
Be there any solid form to claim?
A word by which I am known?
It is you - The origin of my thoughts,
The drum and the flute
By which my heart keeps time
In this dancing mystery.
I shall resolve no more
To give meaning to myself.
'tis a futile endeavor.
If from you I was taken,
Only by you might I be defined.
If in you I am created,
Only by you am I named or given purpose.
Name me thy immortal soul,
That I may become more than myself.

© Rachelle

[Inspired by the story of Zoroaster and Ardouizur, as presented in "From Sphinx to Christ" by Edouard Schure'; Book IV; Manifestations of the Solar World]

From Sphinx to Christ is the engrossing story of the eternal search for knowledge of our origin, evolution, and destiny as spiritual beings. Edouard Schure lucidly and masterfully traces the course of this quest from the primordial wisdom expressed in the Riddle of the Sphinx; through the legends of antediluvian civilizations and the traditions of India, Persia, Babylon, Egypt, and classical Greece; to the pivotal figure of Christ, who renews ancient mysteries and embodies new ones for the continuing development of humanity.








You might also like:
Ignorance of Man

See all posts for November 2011

Toward Indiana

how beautiful the air when it shifts
after all the road signs have zipped by
the mile markers counted
and when i get there
the outline of lake shores
the calling of time gone
spent surrounded by wooden porches
the nights i chased fireflies
and fashioned myself a ring that sparkled in the night
the tight comfort of tucked sheets
and faded paper on the wall
the wicked witch securely locked away

i have flown there in my dreams
to watch myself washed in the foamy water
and dried with white cotton
my feet scrubbed as clean as the cup from which I drank
it was just before i sank
i went south and the heat overwhelmed me

a history past
so fast that i wonder if it was true
the tiny figure of myself peering through cedar framed windows
i pretended i was asleep
a game i still play - my secret occupation
and no one knows but me
me and the two i wrote about in my diary

Rachelle LeCount
11-11-11

You might also like:
If I Were a Cat

And So She Says...

And so she says to he who has created her:

I cannot say, with certainty, what lies at the end, but I know it is a thing that makes all else seem as a brief dream. What now is known will seem as swift in passing as a wind brushing through branches, then gone.

It is easy to feel that we have traveled long in this forsaken land, but I should remind you of that prize.

Let us not succumb to weariness. Let not the darkness of night cause forgetfulness. Ahead - not far - is the thing hoped for. That great illumination. Perfection unsurpassed. Love's fulfillment. Rest and water and shade and peace. Go with me then, so that we may reach it at last.


by Rachelle LeCount

Moments of Choice (Part3)

(continued from below)

Conjure up any image, think of any tale of heroes and heroines, dragons and swords, lovers and mysteries. Mythology and folklore are all symbolic of our journey - tale of experiences along that path, where there are many discoveries, perils and puzzles. There are fears to be fought and wars to be won. There are days of astounding peace and days of turmoil. There are times when strengths are tested and weaknesses overcome. There will certainly be wrong turns and wasted days and times in which one feels that going further is impossible.

Still, the moments of choice, they come, full of promise and hope and fear of one's own inadequacies. They are the most profoundly raw and true moments. The journey itself is unavoidable.

A choice? Yes, there is a choice. Yet to decline to choose is still choice. The only true choice is between moving along the path, aware that something lies ahead or forever wander aimlessly and without purpose. In accepting the challenge of one's journey, one begins to realize that something of great worth lies ahead. Something that makes all the troubles and wearisome travel seem as nothing, once the end is reached. The journey itself will determine the worth of the prize at the end.

Rachelle LeCount

See Part 1

Moments of Choice (Part2)

(continued from below)

How does one determine to go left or right at each fork and turn? And who is to know what lies beyond the visible terrain? One might choose to avoid the rocky cliffs to the north, only to realize that if had one managed to conquer the frightening heights, the result would be rest by rolling streams which lay just beyond. Or the seemingly level path toward south, might easily result in wilderness, dry and vast. One never knows, for sure.


Rachelle LeCount

Moments of Choice

Moments of choice, they come, fleetingly and unexpectedly but certainly. Once, perhaps twice, as have I, you saw your foot set onto that path. A path on which you journey toward a mysterious and unknown outcome. A destiny that, in order to reach, you must travel through valleys and over mountains, through deserts and lands of plenty. One can only consider, by imagination, what provisions one might have upon beginning this journey. What tools and supplies might be carried along or put to use. Is there a map? A clue? A compass?

Rachelle LeCount

Part 2
Part 3

I Am...

I've posted this song before but since it's been a while and it's such a special song to me, and since it was on my mind today... well, you get the point.


Wunderkind
Alanis Morissette



Oh perilous place
Walk backwards toward you
Blink disbelieving eyes chilled to the bone
Most visibly brave
No apprehended gloom
First to take this foot to virgin snow

I am a magnet for all kinds of deeper wonderment
I am a wunderkind ohwowoh
I lift the envelope pushed far enough to believe this
I am a princess on the way to my throne
destined to serve
destined to roam

Oh ominous place
Spellbound and un-childproofed
My least favorite chill to bear alone

Compatriots in place
They’d cringe if I told you
Our best back pocket secret: our bond full blown

I am a magnet for all kinds of deeper wonderment
I am a wunderkind ohwowoh
I am a pioneer naïve enough to believe this
I am a princess on the way to my throne
destined to seek
destined to know

Most beautiful place
Reborn and blown off roof
My view: about face whether, great will be done

I am a magnet for all kinds of deeper wonderment
I am a wunderkind ohwowoh
I am a groundbreaker naïve enough to believe this
I am a princess on the way to my throne

I am a magnet for all kinds of deeper wonderment
I am a wunderkind ohwowoh
I am the Joan of Arc and smart enough to believe this
I am a princess on the way to my throne

Destined to reign, destined to roam
Destined to reign, destined to roam
Ohahahoohah
Ohahahoohah
Destined to reign, destined to roam
Destined to reign, destined to roam

Back to Main Page

Something Diaphanous Said

She spent her time waiting for the first breath of life
A love that her heart could call home
When at last it came though yet from a distance
She packed all she had and all that she was
Wrapped up in ribbons and bows and set out to seek its source
At the crossroads she stood, determining her course
Had he called from the left or the right she wasn't sure
Tilting her head perhaps to better hear
Standing on tiptoes so she might see farther into the distance
And she wondered how long had she been there
And she thought of time and how it passed
As she watched the others as they went ahead two by two
Toward the life and love their hearts would call home
She stood with her package of all that she was
As the once vivid colors of the ribbons faded
And the flowery bows wilted in the heat of the days
Days that seemed like years and the years longer still
As a picture grows dim and fades out of view
So my vision of her as she waits for his voice
To be her clues and her courage or to say perhaps
Here I am to the east or to the west - move toward me
But where is she now the one with her package
Her heart wrapped like a present in wind worn paper
Last I saw her she was still standing at the crossroads
On tiptoes perhaps to see farther into the distance
Wondering how long she'd been there, waiting.

Written by
Rachelle LeCount





You might also like:
The Reader

From 2008

She wakes from her sleep, as if the moon had shattered. What can break the moon, aside from the memories that seem as though they were three lifetimes ago. She had walked upon that other world, hadn't she? That place where color blazed on every leaf and blade, as if the stars were rainbows. The mere recollection is as a chant of joy that leaps into the heart, driven and swift, and beckons with the fury of beating wings.

At moments she watches, as they swim in sunlight and in shadowy depths of water warmed by the piercing light. Light that spread out in long sharp rays across the surface, leaving colored sparkles like a million butterflies. And they swim, as if floating, among straight tall stems of green grasses that dance against blue of sacred waters.

She remembers, as if her resurrection was finally at hand, the two as they crawl together over the rim onto the shore and sand. She listens from behind closed eyelids to the verses that sometimes sank so deep into her heart she had to strain to hear them. She opens her eyes to the silver sky and remembers the secret places, the caverns and mystical springs.

But no one else seems to notice. No one sees her remember or hears the chants and verses. No one else knows of the caverns or the deepness of waters or the warmth of the sand or the sparkling butterflies. They don't feel the longing or the wishing for that land or that time. Perhaps they were never there. Or maybe it was just a dream. And so, she will choose to forget again, until the next morning when she wakes.

Written by
Rachelle LeCount
2008

You may also like
Late Afternoon on the Porch
from July 2008

Beautiful Version

Lyrics:

When all the world is a hopeless jumble
And the raindrops tumble all around
Heaven opens a magic lane
When all the clouds darken up the skyway
There`s a rainbow highway to be found
Leading from your windowpane
To a place behind the sun
Just a step beyond the rain

Somewhere, over the rainbow, way up high
There`s a land that I heard of once in a lullabye
And somewhere, over the rainbow, skies are blue
And the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true

Some day Ill wish upon a star
And wake up where the clouds are far behind me
And troubles melt like lemon drops away above the chimney tops
That`s where you`ll find me

Somewhere, over the rainbow bluebirds fly
If birds can fly over the rainbow
Why, oh then why can`t I?

Someday Ill wake and rub my eyes
And in that land beyond the skies
Youll find me
Ill be a laughing daffodil
And leave the silly cares that fill my mind behind me

Somewhere, over the rainbow, bluebirds fly
If birds can fly over the rainbow
Why, then oh why can`t I?

If happy little bluebirds fly
Beyond the rainbow
Why, oh why can`t I?

Repeats

Wishing For Sidewalks

Silently we go, understanding not what lies ahead, but knowing something is missing. Our pack? Our pony? But the daunting darkness reveals not the answer.

Stumbling, we cannot say where we are going, or even where we are. Time drags. Loud footsteps race up from behind and we are frozen with fear.

We wish for successful outcomes, for softer terrain and the smoothness of sidewalks, but none are to be found and outcomes are yet unknown.

There is no compass. No map. There is night. There is sleep. It's tempting to stay safe under the cover of pitched tents beside crackling fires, waiting for mornings that never come.

Yet, we know. Somehow we know this is our illusion. It is not real. It is deception.

Though the road be long and wearisome, we have but to move forward following the one who travels ahead. Making the burden that small bit lighter. To simply listen to his guiding call. That voice that soothes if only our souls hear.

© Rachelle
2003

----------------------------------------

The Eternal Promise

The beauty of the beloved awaits in the charmed stillness and knowledge of his promise. For all it's disappointments and trials, hope shall not be dissolved. For it was sown by the spirit which breathed even before the lungs were shaped. As we move in this limited form, amidst the few grand things of earth, he ceaselessly provides us that taste of a mercy and a grace by which all tears will end and youth be restored and stretched in infinite circles.

The soul does beseech him, as surely as with clasped hands or tightened eye on bended knee. Though there is no need for such things. He has heard his children. The promise, still distant, is brought to our remembrance in visions and stirrings that, while unmeasured, are exacted according to all good purposes. Glimpses of splendor magnified a thousand times. We alone, who are his, will hear his assurance - the eternal promise.

© Rachelle
2008

January 2009
March 2009

I can tell by your eyes
That you've prob'bly been cryin' forever,
And the stars in the sky don't mean nothin' to you
They're a mirror.

I don't want to talk about it
How you broke my heart.
If I stay here just a little bit longer,
If I stay here, won't you listen to my heart?

If I stand all alone
Will the shadow hide the color of my heart
Blue for the tears, black for the night's fears

And the stars in the sky don't mean nothin' to you
They're a mirror

I don't want to talk about it, how you broke my heart
If I stay here just a little bit longer
If I stay here, won't you listen to my heart?
This ol' heart.

If I stay here just a little bit longer,
If I stay here, won't you listen to my heart?
My heart, whoa, heart.

From Helen Georgia

We're in Helen Georgia for the Holiday weekend. Mostly we're just chilling, but we did go out shopping this morning and the main stop of the morning was, of course, Zuzu's Petals Rock shop, owned and operated by Linda and Geoff McAllister, where I got a lovely Unakite necklace and matching earrings, as well as a Septarian nodule. I'd like to take some pictures of the few items there I've gotten over the last few years. Hopefully I'll be able to do that some time during the upcoming days after we get home from our much needed vacation.

We didn't bring the power cord for the laptop and I'll run out of battery power in a minute, so that's about it for now.

[Also see HERE]

King Hummingbird

By JJ Grey & Mofro



A crown of red, king hummingbird
There upon your perch, say the word
And I’ll fall down on my knees and beg
For the life I took from you my king
Oh this empty thing I’ve done

Everywhere I go, I feel you there
Do you even know me?
Do you even care?

The deepest green, and rainbow blue
As delicate and light, as morning dew
Beating wings they whisper, a baby’s breath
Filling me with wonder, for all that is
But I took careful aim and I made no sound
For no reason I can think of now
Oh this empty thing I’ve done

Everywhere I go, I feel you there

Untitled

like a well -
no, like a fountain
it overflows and spills
faster than i can contain it
and i am beneath it
but the oxygen is pure here
i can breathe and move
under it's liquid pressure

now i realize, after all,
it is not to contain it that i wish
but to set it free
to pour -
to run like a river
and in doing so i can hope
that it will, in the end,
flow back to me
bringing with it all that i knew
but didn't understand

© Rachelle

What Every Woman Needs

Every woman needs to have had at least one man in her life who is strong, responsible, wise and ethical. All others will be judged in comparison to that one man.

The Firefly

"Firefly teaches us to bring things into focus and to lighten the path that is hidden in order to understand our life force. He gives the spark of divine insight and inspiration. Firefly aids in illuminating what is hidden, understands what is confusing, brings wonder and awe in the darkness. He will teach strength to replace fear in the midst of the darkness; spiritual or emotional. Sometimes the faintest the light will see you through. Allow firefly to guide you - in the moment, through the forest of life and to navigate what you are unable to perceive or understanding. It is the light that should be your focus, not the dark. Firefly will show you how, so watch carefully!"

From HERE

Here is a summary list of symbolic meaning of the firefly:

• Inspiration
• Illumination
• Patience
• Attraction
• Energy
• Hope
• Aspiration
• Guidance
• Efficiency
• Creativity
• New Ideas
• Awakening

The symbolic meaning of the firefly of course deals with light, illumination and the like. Although an important focus, the issue of light is not the high feature behind the symbolic meaning of the firefly. Rather, it is the messages this wondrous creature gives us while her light is off may be most profound to our growth.

An ordinary looking creature during the day, admittedly, the firefly is a remarkable sight when it glows at night. This is a symbolic message to us humans that although our physical appearance may seem one way - it is our internal makings - what is inside us (such as our spirit) that makes us shine from the inside out. That which is within us will always illuminate us and those around us.


"Fireflies"
JJ Grey & Mofro



When we were youngin's
We used to play all day
Lord and when the night came
Oh them lights would dance away
Oh so good so warm it felt to play
Like being in your mama's arms
So safe

Where did all the fireflies go?
Hold your breath no more movement in the night
Where did all the fireflies go?
I heard someone say
They ain't never coming back

Running wild feeling oh so free
Trying to light the night up
With the fire inside of me
Oh them lights Lord they let me be me
Where did all the fireflies go where did they go?

Where did all the fireflies go?
Hold your breath no more movement in the night
Where did all the fireflies go?
I heard someone say
hey ain't never coming back