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04/13/2008
Musings on a song
One of my favourite songs, holds too much dear to me, but such is the way with things that actually mean something. It is actually the theme song to "Angel" but I wont hold that against it :P written by Kim Richey - and I have to confess that that means nothing to me. But enough background.
A Place called home
Well, it’s not hard to see
Anyone who looks at me
Knows I am just a rolling stone
Never landed any place to call my own
To call my own
"A rolling stone gathers no moss."
There are people I know who just arrive. They arrive on our doorsteps, walk into our schools, appear at our jobs, join our churchs, attend our pubs and clubs. They send their children to the same nurseries as we send ours. We meet them and befriend them and they become part of our lives. And then they leave. All that is really left is the dust disturbed where they moved over it, the small emptiness in our lives that is so quickly engulfed by the remainder. They are transcendent and we do not miss them.
Well it seems like so long ago
But it really ain’t you know
I started off a crazy kid
Miracle I made it though
The things I did
The things I did
How often do you hear people exclaim, "I could never have done what you've managed," or "I would never have survived what you have."? But surely it is the things we live through - those miracles that we can nver quite explain - that shape who we are. If someone had been through the same as us then they would have been shaped in some way also, just as we adapted to survive.
It is these "miracles" that give us stories to tell. They are experience, they offer insight and teach us wisdom to know where we can make a difference and when it is best to simply move on.
Some day I’ll go where
There ain’t no rain or snow
Till then I’ll travel alone
And I’ll make my bed
With the stars above my head
And dream of a place called home
Maybe that is just it? The rain and snow keep falling. The miracle of making it back to the sun offset by the journey through hell that must preceed it. Why would ever drag someone you care for along with you on *that* journey? It may be better to watch the stars with a lover or friend... but is it worth seeing them walk along side and see the things that you do?
Is it worth the risk that you might turn back to help them when they stumble?
I had a chance to settle down
Get a job and live in town
Work in some old factory
I never liked the foreman
Standing over me
Over me
And yet so many people choose that. To protect them from themselves and the danger they believe they could be were they left to their own devices. To keep them safe from what might happen were they actually to dare to think. Other's bend their back to another in the hopes of promotion and dream of the time when they themselves will be the overseer.
Most accept their position in return security. A safety net to catch them should the wire snap. A job. An income. A pension. Support for their family in times of hardship and trial. The ability to make a difference to the people they love.
No I rather walk a windy road
Rather know the things I know
See the world with my own eye
No regrets no looking back no good byes
No good byes
To feel the wind in you hair and the rain on your skin; hear the sigh of everything that manages to survive so easily without being told what to think - or better still not to think at all. To smell life in all its vigour uncorrupted by routine or regularity; nothing is more constant than change itself - so many strive to forget that. To taste beauty and see the glory of smallest defiances against the night, glowworms in the dark.
No ties to hold you back. Nothing to influence you decison. No people you can drag with you into turmoil. No one that will make you stop and take a second thought before you step out into the unknown. No people who depend on you...
And no one for you to depend on either.
Someday I’ll go where there ain’t no rain nor snow
Til then I’ll travel alone
And I make my bed
With the stars above me head
And I dream of a place called home
And some day I’ll go where there ain’t no rain nor snow
Till then I’ll travel alone
And I make my bed
With the stars above my head
And dream of a place called home
Some day I’ll go where there ain’t no rain nor snow
Dream of a place called home
And despite our better judgement we still search. We still seek out that we claim we do not want, that which will only drag us down. The people who we will make exception for. The people with whome we could build a life that we are happy to live. And even is our very souls are nomandic and can not settle anywhere we still search for our counterparts... the people willing - no wanting - to walk... or run... ... or fly alongside us.
No one was made to be alone.
It just seems easier most of the time.
And safer.
xXx
19:36 Posted in Complete Random Junk! , Poetry , Thoughts | Permalink | Email this
Comments
safer?
yes
easier?
yes
But you fly so much higher,
and the way is so much more enjoyable
when it is shared,
ink.
Posted by: stuart dingle | 04/14/2008