There, in that silence, I felt it

Like a warm wind across winter weary skin

Lightly brushing against the hairs of the forearms

Soothing me comfortably awake after a long hibernation

Something I knew but could not say (I dare not?)

And then it was gone

As if it were a dream

 

But its seed was planted

And rooted itself firmly in the fertile soil of a hungry mind

And its germination led me back to that wilderness

Back to the place of first discovery

Over and again through the years (lifetimes?)

I have returned here to sit upon this solitary mountain

And allow the clear pool of blue sky

To reflect my image back to me

Searching

Seeking

Longing for that warm breeze to once again caress my skin

 

I hear a rustle now in the tree tops

A slight stirring in the dead air

I feel the roots of that knowing digging deeper to my core

And the breeze rises, warmly, comfortingly

And I sit on my mountain and wait

Staring up at an inverted lake of blue sky

Seeing myself again as if for the first time

 

With this, I am content

 

peace, wayf

Take me

Hold me in your arms

Embrace me

Let your warmth and comfort wash me

Clean of the sins of this ugly world

While I bask in the goodness and beauty

Of the charity of one who loves the unlovable

 

Hold me

In comfort and warmth

Enfold me

Stay here and nurture me with your love

I promise I will not run away

There’s nowhere for me to go to rise above

The peace and serenity you have given

 

And your hand, soft and gentle, reaches slowly out in the dark and touches me and sends shivers of joy down my back and up my neck, and the knowledge of your unshakable unbendable love permeates my mind—and I rest.

 

Keep me

Here inside your heart

Un-speak me

Let me be anonymous within these dark confines

Where my love for you is sustenance

And all I need to nourish my hungry mind

While holding your soft hand in the blackness of this night

 

 

peace, wayf

"Lonesome Valley”

 

This should serve to show you a little bit about me—if there were any guitarist, living or dead, that I could sound exactly like it would be Mississippi John Hurt. Without question Mr. Hurt is my favorite guitarist in any genre.  

 

I hope you enjoy this footage. It is from Pete Seeger's television show "Rainbow Quest". I have been listening to John Hurt for nearly fifteen years now, and this is the first footage I have ever seen of him playing.

 

The term "deceptively simple" was invented for John Hurt...

 

peace, wayf

 

David Gilmour, Roger Waters, and Richard Wright performing ‘Grantchester Meadows’—Filmed live in KQED TV studios in San Francisco, CA.—4/29/70.

Grantchester Meadows (Waters)

"Icy wind of night be gone this is not your domain"
In the sky a bird was heard to cry.
Misty morning whisperings and gentle stirring sounds
Belied the deathly silence that lay all around.

Hear the lark and harken to the barking of the dark fox
Gone to ground.
See the splashing of the kingfisher flashing to the water.
And a river of green is sliding unseen beneath the trees
Laughing as it passes through the endless summer
Making for the sea.

In the lazy water meadow I lay me down.
All around me golden sun flakes settle on the ground.
Basking in the sunshine of a bygone afternoon
Bringing sounds of yesterday into this city room.

Hear the lark harken to the barking of the dark fox
Gone to ground.
See the splashing of the kingfisher flashing to the water.
And a river of green is sliding unseen beneath the trees.

Laughing as it passes through the endless summer, making for the sea.

In the lazy water meadow I lay me down.
All around me golden sun flakes covering the ground.
Basking in the sunshine of a bygone afternoon
Bringing sounds of yesterday into this city room.

Hear the lark harken to the barking of the dark fox
Gone to ground.
See the splashing of the kingfisher flashing to the water.
And a river of green is sliding unseen beneath the trees,
Laughing as it passes through the endless summer making for the sea.

 

(Some of the most beautiful moments in the history of rock music were at the hands of David Gilmour whilst holding an acoustic guitar, I believe. )

Enjoy!

 

peace, wayf

 

The forest path meanders deep into thick’ning woods

The chirruping birds invite me,

                                          Entice me to explore

My steps take on a certain lightness I scarcely knew they could

As I delve deeper into the mystery as if stepping through a door

 

 

In the middle, there’s a clearing, just wide enough to sit

The silence, she surrounds me,

                                           Astounds me with her depth

A moment ago I was in the world but have settled in an abyss

Of lush greenery and forest birds and the rasping of my breath

 

 

The silence’s soft hand caresses my poor world weary bones

I feel the world stripped away

                                    And I skip away into dreams

Like the path before, my mind meanders and ruminates on ‘home’

The place where I’ll find comfort away from these worldly schemes

 

 

But home is not ‘out there’ somewhere, but down here—in my core

I see it all so clearly now

                                      So dearly how I know

Those few steps I took awhile ago that led me through that door

Were not leading anywhere, save to the sun’s warm glow

 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

peace, wayf