Can I have some peace and quiet?
-
I am so tired of hearing politics, just let me sit here alone for a
few minutes;
No bashing or criticizing.
Just let me sit here and hear nothing.
...
5 years ago
4 comments:
It's like living in Israel, in a sense. I find that the harmony and the rhythm flow according to a plan and for the good of those who can take it all in. A presentation of the sublime in Humanness.
The terror, yes, it's there in the nation, and the horror of the primitives mingling and desperate to befoul. But if one can find a place in the mind to take in the music of the people as an orchestration of living as embracing life and others, then it is love unsurpassed. Israel itself as a whole experience is a cleanliness of the soul that I seldom find elsewhere outside the music chamber.
No wonder, is it, that so many want to throw rocks and destroy such beauty.
But, I came in the expectation of finding news on Hubble. Instead, to my delight, there's this. A different orchestration of the beautiful. Thanks. I feel good again.
"(I)f one can find a place in the mind to take in the music of the people as an orchestration of living as embracing life and others, then it is love unsurpassed."
You've cracked the code, Dag. Music is life, and the best of it is love.
:)
I do dwell sometimes on things better left alone. I wrote here a while back about the multi-hued farmlands of Britain, using the word "piebald" which upon consideration I thought would have been better had I used dappled, also horse-like and not quite what I mean. Harlequin is closer but has the wrong connotations; so versicolor or variegated come to mind as better. The final point is that the fields of greens and yellows and reds astound the senses, especially for me atop Glastonbury Tor on a gloomy day, as usual, when the sun peaks out and sends down a beam across the fields, lighting the assorted crops in their separate beauties one by one like ballerinas coming out from behind the curtain, bowing gracefully after a triumphant performance.
I'll try to be more careful in my choice of words in future.
The farmlands of Britain, are, indeed, the stuff of which inspire sonnets.
I like "versicolor," myself ...
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