from the west down to the east;
Any day now, any day now,
I shall be released.
Well we live in hope. And for me, my succour is always music;
sitting down at my piano and bellowing my woes, along with the happy tunes too.
I wrote this little song a while back after the following incident, which
happened a few years ago:
I was visiting up north with a friend and we went to the
local gallery where I bought a picture of a lovely bird.
Back at her place, I opened an email from a family member
that I had cared about for many years, who was excoriating me in a very nasty
way, and sharing her erroneous thoughts with other siblings. She had
never been able to express her feelings honestly, and lost control of her
avalanche of anger. The attack was horrible, and caused a rift that has never
healed. I see the bird and I remember. So I sing:
I don't expect apologies; lucky thing, since few people do
it. That's OK, as far as OK, and it's just how life is, goes. I grew up feeling
alone; I'll continue that way. And it's friends who carry me through. And of course, the piano and the singing.
I say thank you.
Some pics:
 |
| the boid on the wall |
 |
| singing about the boid and the - you know - pain |
 |
| singing back in early August when I bothered to get dressed. Note difference in winter layering. Any day now.... |
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