muddy waters

Question:

There is a mud puddle on the floor, where I once stood. And my little heart is pure, but that don’t do no good…

    But it is as it should,     Pan for gold,    (from the good earth to eternity) – Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – a., bluesman

Response:

Silverleaf you have left me speechless…. Thank you for this.  This just resonates beauty and clarity… I remember when I was a child..the native women that lived nearby would tell me things like this… they taught me about Turtle Island, the water, the earth, the soil, grandfather moon etc. SOmetimes I think that I knew more as  a child then I do know…or at least what I knew was so much more relevent in the face of economics, home ec, and other spoonfed garbadge.  So often when I read your writing I am reminded of those women.  They were absolutely amazing… for the most part they were silent and strict..but they knew things..and most importantly they knew how to teach.  Hmmm…  I guess I wasn’t so speechless after all… Thank you Liz – Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – : There is a mud puddle on the floor, : where I once stood. it’s spring up here at last, snow has conceded defeat and turned to puddles. the water can’t be still not in wind like today so it sifts and tumbles winter mud through the fabric of itself. water is the primal seed the hand of life on our world and each puddle clear or dirty is an expression of that force. where you stood, you still stand. silverleaf — "I am a limpet, and you are my rock." – from silverleafs’ silly husband.

Only children sometimes comprehend Loneliness can often be a friend. Have to shut yourself in. Don’t know how to begin telling it to someone who doesn’t fit in. I am sunken in biology I cannot control that part of me. I don’t want to hurt you But I know I will do. Maybe we could find out; What are we to do, I don’t have long fingernails to use. Would we care if we were black and blue? We’re both sick but you still hold my hand We’re together but I understand. Walk along the seaside, This is not a joyride. Tell me in the meantine It’s O.K. -Lush

Response:

: Silverleaf you have left me speechless…. Thank you for this.  This just : resonates beauty and clarity… I remember when I was a child..the native : women that lived nearby would tell me things like this… they taught me : about Turtle Island, the water, the earth, the soil, grandfather moon etc. : SOmetimes I think that I knew more as  a child then I do know…or at : least what I knew was so much more relevent in the face of economics, home : ec, and other spoonfed garbadge.  So often when I read your writing I am : reminded of those women.  They were absolutely amazing… for the most : part they were silent and strict..but they knew things..and most : importantly they knew how to teach.  Hmmm…  I guess I wasn’t so : speechless after all… wow. i’m just wrapping this response around me like a hug, i think i’ll wear it all week. i am honored that i remind you of someone so important to you. : Thank you you’re welcome, and thank you too. *smile* silverleaf — "I am a limpet, and you are my rock." – from silverleafs’ silly husband.

Response:

There is a mud puddle on the floor, where I once stood.

And my little heart is pure, but that don’t do no good… – Hide quoted text — Show quoted text –            And the sun goes down            filling the air with colour.            Winds lift you up to God            You fall to your knees            and brace for the storm            You don’t let go,            you like to be twisted by the force            you like to be shaken by the wind.            I know you know..            watching you go is like dying.            Take it to the limit,            when the winds come up.            Crazy men crazy women;            crying out for love            You’d rather be  wrapped up in the arms of the storm.                                    FM

a., bluesman

Response:

: There is a mud puddle on the floor, : where I once stood. it’s spring up here at last, snow has conceded defeat and turned to puddles. the water can’t be still not in wind like today so it sifts and tumbles winter mud through the fabric of itself. water is the primal seed the hand of life on our world and each puddle clear or dirty is an expression of that force. where you stood, you still stand. silverleaf — "I am a limpet, and you are my rock." – from silverleafs’ silly husband.

Response:

There is a mud puddle on the floor, where I once stood.                 And the sun goes down                 filling the air with colour.                 Winds lift you up to God                 You fall to your knees                 and brace for the storm                 You don’t let go,                 you like to be twisted by the force                 you like to be shaken by the wind.                 I know you know..                 watching you go is like dying.                 Take it to the limit,                 when the winds come up.                 Crazy men crazy women;                 crying out for love                 You’d rather be  wrapped up in the arms of the storm.                                         FM

Response:

Filed under: Loneliness

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