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)

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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

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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

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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.








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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

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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





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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

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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

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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.