Thoughts From The Brown Couch

I remember one night, when I lived there, and you were asleep. The radio played Bruce Cockburn's "Deep Lake" quietly, and the open window let in a slow breeze that kept the night cool. You were on your stomache, leg askew against mine as I sat up in bed. I watched the shadow pattern twist with the opportunistic lights of the cars that drove by our window. In the dark, I can smell that mix of perfume, shampoo and sweat of your day, the scent I loved to know at night. Every last detail of the quiet night is etched in my mind, and while I know you will probobly never read this, I had to write it. I want you to know what you took, and those forever images that stick with me, images I can't burn with a lighter or destroy with my hands. Now you live somewhere behind my eyes, always just over the next rise, where the river disappears around the bend. I want you to know all this, so when you wake up some quiet night, leg pressed up against whoever took my place with soft music playing, maybe a guitar carried across the room, as some shadow dances behind everything you said and did, you'll know, same as me. You'll know I may be sad to let this overwhelming sadness go, but that won't stop it from happening. There is no end to the wind, it circles the planet, and I will catch it next time around. Goodbye, farewell, and amen.

aloha,

cf

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"I've seen a high cairn kissed by holy wind
Seen a mirror pool cut by golden fins
Seen alleys where they hide the truth of cities
The mad whose blessing you must accept without pity
I've stood in airports guarded glass and chrome
Walked rifled roads and landmined loam
Seen a forest in flames right down to the road
Burned in love till I've seen my heart explode
You've been leading me
Beside strange waters

Across the concrete fields of man
Sun ray like a camera pans
Some will run and some will stand
Everything is bullshit but the open hand
You've been leading me
Beside strange waters
Streams of beautiful lights in the night
But where is my pastureland in these dark valleys?
If I loose my grip, will I take flight?
You've been leading me
Beside strange waters"

Strange Waters
by Bruce Cockburn

cf