Thursday, November 10, 2016

Darkness my old friend

Hello darkness, my old friend
I've come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains within the sound of silence

In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone
'Neath the halo of a street lamp
I turned my collar to the cold and damp

When my eyes were stabbed
By the flash of a neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence

And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more
People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening

People writing songs
That voices never share
And no one dare
Disturb the sound of silence

"Fools, " said I, "you do not know
Silence, like a cancer, grows.
Hear my words that I might teach you
Take my arms that I might reach you."
But my words like silent raindrops fell
And echoed in the wells of silence

And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon God they made
And the sign flashed out its warning
And the words that it was forming

And the sign said,
"The words of the prophets
Are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls."
And whispered in the sound of silence

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Darkness of Thursday morning, almost magically brilliant sky, my old friend Orion again, still and always out in the night sky hunting, his Dog trailing at heel. Thursday since finding out. I do not understand. Help us, we pray, in the midst of things we cannot understand, to believe and trust in the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, and the resurrection to life everlasting. Over against common gospel precepts, I do not understand, I do not understand the appeal. Over against last Sunday's gospel for All Saints Day, Luke 6:31, I do not understand. In the aftermath I do not understand the rudeness as though it is to be the new norm: cruel mocking, jeering at horrified folks who said in this event they would leave the country. deriding them as "idiots" and taunting them with links to emigration sites, Canada and that, the hatred continues and I do not understand. Courtesy is an element of αγάπη, thoughtfulness, kindness and common human decency. Time to reflect in a world that is not a game of Trivial Pursuit in which to lay past aside and drag hangdog on. I do not understand, and in my confusion I now begin to look deep within, introspect, assess and reassess my being, who I am, what I am, what I will become and be. Judging myself in part by with whom I associate, contemplating relationships and connections. Already introspecting, with eyes to see and ears to hear, outwardly I do not see who thought I saw or know who I thought I knew; nor internally see who I thought I was. I contemplate my Appomattox Courthouse and Traveller's free rein. Eighty-one and withdrawing, 7H and waiting where I can see beyond, over and out. Still dark here. 201611090449 and still dark.

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Psalm 139     Domine, probasti

O LORD, thou hast searched me out, and known me. *
    Thou knowest my down-sitting and mine up-rising;
    thou understandest my thoughts long before.
Thou art about my path, and about my bed, *
    and art acquainted with all my ways.
For lo, there is not a word in my tongue, *
    but thou, O LORD, knowest it altogether.
Thou hast beset me behind and before, *
    and laid thine hand upon me.
Such knowledge is too wonderful and excellent for me; *
    I cannot attain unto it.
Whither shall I go then from thy Spirit? *
    or whither shall I go then from thy presence?
If I climb up into heaven, thou art there; *
    if I go down to hell, thou art there also.
If I take the wings of the morning, *
    and remain in the uttermost parts of the sea;
Even there also shall thy hand lead me, *
    and thy right hand shall hold me.
If I say, Peradventure the darkness shall cover me, *
    then shall my night be turned to day.
Yea, the darkness is no darkness with thee, 
but the night is as clear as day; *
    the darkness and light to thee are both alike.

Paul Simon
Simon & Garfunkel


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