Dreaming Crystal Images of True Music
I just can't seem to get her off of my mind...
It's the simplest things I find the hardest to bear,
The saphires in her eyes, the crimson of her hair.
So much time is lost, working our lives away,
Keepin' our eyes upon the light of a comin' day.
And when we wake up and finally see the light,
Is there anything left of the Music of our Lives?
It's the simplest things I find the hardest to bear,
The saphires in her eyes, the crimson of her hair.
So much time is lost, working our lives away,
Keepin' our eyes upon the light of a comin' day.
And when we wake up and finally see the light,
Is there anything left of the Music of our Lives?
1 Comments:
This is a snipet of a song I wrote for a woman I'd met not a week before handing her the CD with the finished work on it. Odd. I'd never done anything like that before. I think it is the ONLY song I ever wrote FOR someone. I've written over 300 songs in my life, and many have been inspired BY people I knew or met, but this is the only one that I wrote FOR someone.
I cannot for the life of me figure out precisely why I did that. Was it a surge of pride? An effort to woo and impress? I think this is the most likely answer, though I can't be sure. Yet I have written so many songs about so many people...something must be different in this case.
Maybe it was just meant to be. (See: "What Must Be" on this blog)
I don't know what lesson I was supposed to learn from this (now failed) attempt to woo a casual acquaintance, but there must be some meaning behind it. Maybe I'm looking too hard. Thinking too hard. Does everything have to have a lesson, a moral, a purpose? My heart, my belief system, the core of my being, tells me that EVERTHING works toward some purpose. So what purpose did meeting ******* (name deleted) serve?
It appears at this point that she was not my soulmate (not even a casual dating experience). I have gained no noteriety (or money) from writing the song. In fact, so far, all I have gotten from meeting ******* is wasted time and effort, rejection, and a bit of heartache (just a bit, I never really got to know her).
Maybe that's it. A bit more suffering. One more hot coal to carry on my scalp. A reminder that life is all about suffering (not that I ever forgot it, I've been living with physical suffering every hour of my life for several years). It was a gentle nudge, a tanatalizing taste, a fleeting aroma of that which I will always be denied.
I should be bitter, (I am bitterly disappointed that I was unable to get to know *******) but I am not. I am humbled. Once again.
Not to worry. Sooner or later something or someone else will come along, once again giving me hope, which in turn will allow my pride to grow, and I'll have another opportunity to be humbled.
Some things you simply cannot fight. Destiny. Fate. God. So you just have to go with it, smile and struggle through another day.
It really is the simplest things I find the hardest to bear.
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