It Is A Holy Woman And A Temple
It is a holy man, a good poem, and a holy woman;
and a temple and a mosque and a shrine.
Have you not been looking for a companion
like that? For a place of such great refuge,
where time asks nothing of you,
where you can come and go as you please,
where you can control all the rules,
because your heart knows best.
And you don't have to give up
any pleasures that might still be working,
adding color to your cheeks.
There is nothing you touch
that you hope won't fit into a puzzle you are
seriously working on.
I know how the eye works,
what its primary impetus and desire is:
to lay its gaze upon the beautiful,
and for beauty to wink back.
The eye, like every part of you,
is governed by your great
and continual need to feel whole and able.
Able to work and learn and give and play
and love and love and love.
I love these words about Love, "Have you not been looking for a companion like that? For a place of such great refuge, where time asks nothing of you...where your heart knows best...where you don't have to give up any pleasures that you might still be working on...where there is nothing that won't fit into your puzzle." Souls do not know calendars or clocks, they only know how it feels to be one with another, which of course, is perhaps one of the most beautiful sentiments about love enduring past this world. And to borrow the analogy used by another, sometimes it is inconceivable that the roots of the souls should ever part, being that they are so intertwined. In Mary Haskell's journal on July 28, 1917 she wrote: "I said to Kahlil, "You have probably never been as near to any other woman as to me." More like a flash than he ever speaks Kahlil put in, "I have never been one hundredth part as near to any human being, man or woman, as to you." He put his feet up, stretched out, and rested my head on his breast, "The essence of what is between you and me, is the most wonderful and beautiful. I have used this phrase before to express it - 'You are also here.' It is a kinship. There is also a language. It is not a matter merely of words. Sometimes you have not even begun to speak - and I am at the end of what you are saying. And I don't think this is dependent on time - on the years we have known each other. The root between us is ten years old, or more - it has been the same thing all the time - though it has developed and grown."
It is a holy man, a good poem, and a holy woman;
and a temple and a mosque and a shrine.
Have you not been looking for a companion
like that? For a place of such great refuge,
where time asks nothing of you,
where you can come and go as you please,
where you can control all the rules,
because your heart knows best.
And you don't have to give up
any pleasures that might still be working,
adding color to your cheeks.
There is nothing you touch
that you hope won't fit into a puzzle you are
seriously working on.
I know how the eye works,
what its primary impetus and desire is:
to lay its gaze upon the beautiful,
and for beauty to wink back.
The eye, like every part of you,
is governed by your great
and continual need to feel whole and able.
Able to work and learn and give and play
and love and love and love.
I love these words about Love, "Have you not been looking for a companion like that? For a place of such great refuge, where time asks nothing of you...where your heart knows best...where you don't have to give up any pleasures that you might still be working on...where there is nothing that won't fit into your puzzle." Souls do not know calendars or clocks, they only know how it feels to be one with another, which of course, is perhaps one of the most beautiful sentiments about love enduring past this world. And to borrow the analogy used by another, sometimes it is inconceivable that the roots of the souls should ever part, being that they are so intertwined. In Mary Haskell's journal on July 28, 1917 she wrote: "I said to Kahlil, "You have probably never been as near to any other woman as to me." More like a flash than he ever speaks Kahlil put in, "I have never been one hundredth part as near to any human being, man or woman, as to you." He put his feet up, stretched out, and rested my head on his breast, "The essence of what is between you and me, is the most wonderful and beautiful. I have used this phrase before to express it - 'You are also here.' It is a kinship. There is also a language. It is not a matter merely of words. Sometimes you have not even begun to speak - and I am at the end of what you are saying. And I don't think this is dependent on time - on the years we have known each other. The root between us is ten years old, or more - it has been the same thing all the time - though it has developed and grown."
A Long Time Ago (1972), Jim Croce
No comments:
Post a Comment