Sunday, October 28, 2007
autobyoddysey
Wave in Progress--an autobyoddyssey
Antonio Carlos Jobim produced
what I have read described
as the emptiest music on earth.
It is the music of The Stepford Wives.
It is the music of the upscale grocery store,
the Bottega Veneta theme song.
The emptiest music.
At first it was fun.
Then it was escape.
Then it was opportunity.
Then it was titillation.
Then it was retribution.
Then it was a challenge.
Then it was an obsession.
Then I thought it was real.
Then I thought it was imagination.
Then I thought it was so cool.
Then I thought it was a miracle.
Then I thought it was a threat.
Then it seemed to be a duty.
Then it seemed a Divine Obsession.
Then it seemed to rule the earth.
Then the earth grew smaller.
Then the world grew even smaller.
Then my heart grew smaller.
Then I went crazy for a while.
Then I took a road trip.
Then my heart grew cold.
Then I came home to an impossible situation.
Then I realized Aroo! Aroo!
I re-visited the zoo.
Then I remembered my friends.
Then I felt better, much better.
Then I read the Book of Nature.
And I thought about it.
Then it occurred to me
to listen to some music.
Then I went electric.
Then I joined a Lost Tribe.
Then I felt ensnared again.
I wandered aimlessly
to counter purposes.
I found my mother
and she did not know my name.
I swam in a sea of delusions.
I was surrounded
by my own smoke and mist.
Murky images of the future
danced before me. . .
Shades of past music
patches of light
laughter, raucous or subtle,
bitter tears and broken glass
Then I noticed how rays of the sun
magnify through the bits
the infinite variety of sky
the waving grass on its way
how everything seen breathes
through the invisible water-crystal
how things unseen move through
the crystal that makes it happen
that saves life for the fire
and I thought
Psychics can never accurately
predict the future.
Of course not.
The future is ever-changing.
It changes even as you notice it.
True for everyone . . .
True for Everyone.
So, then, it follows that our only possession
is this control of the present moment.
That is the only thing we can own,
even though it often seems otherwise,
and it constantly moves, like a wave.
Monday, October 22, 2007
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