Apr 28 2008
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“Tears for what I never knew
Of love and how it’s won”
This struck as truth as darkly as the sun, in your song of torment and angst and feelings robust—when we think we are old we are simply young; feeling worn and overcome. It is because we feel so strongly, so forward and then undone—when we feel patience’s lesson we’re stung. So now our laughter is loud, our tears bittersweet proud. Savor deeply this period of pain, God’s magic, inspiration and rain.
I cluck my teeth, my cheeks swell, muscles tense, as this Spanish guitar brings tears from a deep well. Exquisite, stunning and angst comes in a form of a sensual dance as rain pours outside, vivid green strucks the eyes as damp thin clothes—cold, demise—stick to skin reminding of a fragile existence and a shivering state. Dark wet curls. The weightlessness of goosebumps. Venerable and still and yet howl and singing mix like a beautiful hell. Exotic strange and yet Allah gave this capacity—this width of feeling breathe of stir—too much feeling now I fall asleep on floor.
