Can't Go Back Now

Has there ever been a song that touches you every time you hear it? "Can't Go Back Now" by The Weepies does it for me. and yes - every single time. It means something new each time as well.

The lyrics:

Yesterday, when you were young,
Everything you needed done was done for you.
Now you do it on your own
But you find you're all alone,
What can you do?

You and me walk on
Cause you can't go back now.

You know there will be days when you're so tired that you can't take another step,
The night will have no stars and you'll think you've gone as far as you will ever get

But you and me walk on
Cause you can't go back now
And yeah, yeah, go where you want to go
Be what you want to be,
If you ever turn around, you'll see me.

I can't really say why everybody wishes they were somewhere else
But in the end, the only steps that matter are the ones you take all by yourself

And you and me walk on
Yeah you and me walk on
Cause you can't go back now
Walk on, walk on, walk on
You can't go back now

miracles hit
jolting the heart
see dragonfly blue
over sun-fired pond.
it startles to waking
with refreshing reprieve --
Grace!
comes in fountains
to water,
bide trial,
and reach.

memory spins like a pinwheel;
colors stream, in spite of
grip on cool reality.
and - for such love and pain
darkness and glory -
I cannot, I cannot keep
heart from breaking.
I could not hold them, they fell
through cracks in this old
wooden floor of my soul. I
could not say - how could I say -
how can we find the right words to say??
how beautiful are souls -
how we long to dance for hours,
years, in joy's dim light that
clothed us in moments.
I can only pray as they go away
that love will trail them and I
through life's inconstant night.

bald winter moment

Today I sit on frozen rock
waiting
watching
the white lake of snow spread out
wings gently beneath my feet.
Slowly the cold seeps in. It
keeps me awake. Alive enough to witness
what life would subtly concede.
Today the white arms of winter
hold up the horizon - the world is open,
inviting, free.

This is a window. One of the edges
I am drawn to.
At the edge there is wilderness
and release
the death of concern.
Standing upon this border
one knows at once home's solace
and adventure's beckoning.
A birds eye view of paradox
reality.
Here I breathe,
begin to be.

I am standing here!
It is the edge of my being!
and I am a tree - rooted -
but branches dip, rise, sway
as potent silver winds break
through leaves -
with unrestrained embrace.

It is baptism. It is seasons.
It is what life would cry given
tongue to speak.
But we are pioneers
to whom the task belongs
to discover and believe.

finally...

After the seas are all cross’d, (as they seem already cross’d)
After the great captains and engineers have accomplish’d their work,
After the noble inventors, after the scientists, the chemist, the geologist, the ethnologist,
Finally comes the poet worthy of that name,
The true son of God shall come singing his songs.

-Walt Whitman
Leaves of Grass

to one and many

you are a hunter
in the field of your
soul's loneliness.

day after night
after evening after
dawn - endlessly
you are driven on

in search of a harbor
for your cry.
your 'greatness'
hides you - both
disguise and dilemma
- all too oft
betrayer of need.

but, in summer's green embrace,
open up your eyes. see
the shadow of your beloved
draw near
bending down
to touch your face.

not a poem but...

beautiful -
from Blaise Pascal:

"The Christian's God does not consist merely of a God who is the author of mathematical truths...but the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, the God of Jacob. The God of the Christians is a God of love and consolation: he is a God who fills the soul and heart of those whom he possesses: he is a God who makes them inwardly aware of their wretchedness and his infinite mercy: who united himself with them in the depths of their soul: who fills it with humility, joy, confidence and love: who makes them incapable of having any other end but him."

Also,

"The way of God who disposes all things with gentleness, is to instil religion into our minds with reasoned arguments and into our hearts with grace, but attempting to instil it into hearts and minds with force and threats is to instil not religion but terror."

mercy

mercy is
deep
as twilight
and as broad
as prairie sky
drop a few coins in her
well and watch
thoughts sink
to new depths
overwhelmed
but gone after given.
all that lives on in the distance
are small copper fires
floating
with occasional
impetuous
eternal glisten.

some things are received
more soundly
unsaid.
we grate against the void

(loss of understanding)

that threatens death
upon we who live to know. but,
in the severe movements of silence,
idol gods die.
hearts burn - bear fire -
and grow.