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::: am baking bread in the real for the first time in years... laughs brightly... the Fountain of Youth... if a body gives self permission to dream and love again...
:: listens to what some would call the most craziest guitar player in the world ... love him!... kinda dance -walk down the road... stops and sniff aire... ::
:: baking bread fragrance fields to the right... and guides Me footsteps straight to Ms. Rare's home as well! ... knocks on door... then enters announcing self... hears Ms. Rare call from kitchen and turns that way... stating ::
"Could smell such goodness down the road and around the bend Lady! MMmmmMMmmmm....! "
:: stands at the kitchen entrance... lick lips grinning ::
"when will it be ready for cutting... might I sit in the rocking chair over there near the stove and just watch and talk a spell?"
:: she nods yes with a smile, pointing to the wall of hats and goes back humming .... walks over to wall... removing hat and placing it on a wall peg... then strides over to wooden rocker.... sitting and grinning tho telling stomach not to start growling for bread just yet! ::
"hmmmm.... why don't we have some music... "
:: resists all songs about food tho its first instinct and pauses a moment to feel ... hmmmm... am in mood for classical guitar ... looks thru the record bin at his side... something exotic tho... looks up over at Ms. Rare... slight smile tug lips::
"How about a song from a couple of Iranian-American artists named Shahin & Sepehr ... am in mood to ride an Arabian stallion hard and fast with lots of jumps... also desire lots of sand and difference garbs of fabric... ye love fabrics Me thinks? "
:: turns to spin the song then sit backs in a slow rock ... an ankle rests on opposite knee... elbow on arm rest, finger tapping upper lip, watching Ms. Rare shaping bread... listening to her talking... loving the warmth and smell of other loafs of bread, baking ::
Thank you Sir MMC for such heart-felt Morning Prayers and music.... It touches this one's day with blessings Sir and gives a sense of family... togetherness... also the deeper truth is, Thank thee for allowing thyself to be loved by even this one...
:: leans forward... voice gentle ::
"Thank thee Ms. Rare for the saying... am grateful for the union of heart and peace such gives ye... am also honour that love tis inspired within thee regarding Me, Lady... a soul can't have enough love to protect him thru the day and what it gives... Know that confessing such inspires Me to walk in ways true to thy keepings... to be worthy of such a sacred gift given... may that tween us grow as a beautiful flower that perfumes the gardens of Goodness... Amen. "
:: stands and comes over to hug Ms. Rare gently to Me... then smiles down at her... soft laughter shared... playfully leans over to bread as if to poke it with finger ... fake a cringe as ye playfully hit Me with towel... laughter rangs loud and rich... turns then to settle back in rocker ... comical look as Me pretend to endure thy playful warnings about ruining Ye bread... both bursts out in laughter... topic turns to camping... ::
"ESPECIALLY here Ms. Rare! Yes.. Lets! Ye shall dream where for a while and when plan is ready... tell Me at the quick! Then off we go for some camping... just uh... make sure we have a time for some fishin in it! " :: wry grin ::
:: then flat out cheers... laughs and sits back... suddenly hears a gathering of folks down the road... musician's quick blasts.. noisy... a buzz of people already frying up meats... aromas drifts pass screen door and mingles in the kitchen... mouth waters... sits up, stretching neck, looking out screen door... ::
"Hey Ms. Rare... hear that? A shindig of some sort is gathering a little ways down the road... you can hear them if ye... wait..."
Here In California - ( a cover of Kate Wolf song )
:: stands... boots strides to screen door and creaks it open... unprofessional singing drifts in loud and clear... states over shoulder... half-steps onto wrap-around porch ::
"We can take a bit of bread when ready then shall escort Ye to the gathering yonder Ma'am... "
:: let screen-door slam behind him... stands with hands on hips...says to self .. nay gonna be tempted away from fresh bake bread... that's for sure! ::
Pacheco - Red Tailed Hawk - ( a noisy impromptu gathering )
...
~sudden exhaustion takes hold... .. soon we are off~
~rhythm of horse's trot and grannies' talk lulls me to sleepiness... all pile out... enter home... ... quick hands ... prepared bedding as well as myself for a comfortable laying...
... waits in the darkness, hidden, for all to leave... waits for abode's foster parents to re-settles into sleep... waits for all maidens to return to individual rooms... waits as their beau disappears upstairs, re-emerging later, melting into trees ...
waits as coyote calls out in loneliness... waits as death takes a field mouse and life is sparked tween conjoined lovers... waits in the dappled moonlight for her ancestral call...
~dreams tumble here.... there... walking in dreams... memories... in dreams, gentle eyes gaze up at Thee... then lower self-consciously in a thousand locations~
~calling through the ethers~ ...Sir, heart feels pulled to be near Thee ... ~memories tumble... flash~
~challenges of past days... beauty and tenacity... sleep~
~tears and laughter... consciousness briefly surfaces... whispers softly in those lands~ ...Sir, nerves still are frayed... but heart strings pull ... ~swallows... gentle tremors... sleep... wait for me~ ~dreams hands reach as if to comfort~
~drifting sleep~
Claude Debussy - Prelude to the Afternoon of a Faun
:: sudden pull... forward... magnetic! .... takes a step from placement... hand grasps tree bark for leverage... starts to climb up.... stops... house lamp flicks on ... falls back... whispers into night breeze... :: ... am her M'lady.... am here....
:: Sweet night! our blanket... a ceiling of stars...
ache of dawn's approach urges harsh retreat...::
ahh Heavenly Father!... how Thy lips quiver in the
barest streak of colour... so full of unanswered
kisses Ye... :: whispers :: ... am just a man who can only relieve Thy Pain in a mortal's comfort...
Samuel Barber - (Agnus Dei) Adagio for Strings, op.11
:: ... watches how Your yearnings spread 'cross her
window... brightness beating fist of twinned agony...
reflections of love's beauty birthed in pain...
:: agonized whisper :: Me Father of Love! Come away...
walk with me to the river's edge... commit such colours
to a larger mirror...
:: hurried footfall rushes to edge of rising mist...
rolling hills peek as if thru clouds... uncontrollable
sob tears forth... sinks to knees... arms raised... ::
Father! Thy heart too alive in ache... too alive within
love...
Firkusny - Sonata No.14 in C sharp minor, Op.27 No.2
'Moonlight' - I. Adagio sostenuto
:: Sweet night! our blanket... a ceiling of stars...
ache of dawn's approach urges harsh retreat...::
ahh Heavenly Father!... how Thy lips quiver in the
barest streak of colour... so full of unanswered
kisses Ye... :: whispers :: ... am just a man who can only relieve Thy Pain in a mortal's comfort...
Samuel Barber - (Agnus Dei) Adagio for Strings, op.11
:: ... watches how Your yearnings spread 'cross her
window... brightness beating fist of twinned agony...
reflections of love's beauty birthed in pain...
:: agonized whisper :: Me Father of Love! Come away...
walk with me to the river's edge... commit such colours
to a larger mirror...
:: hurried footfall rushes to edge of rising mist...
rolling hills peek as if thru clouds... uncontrollable
sob tears forth... sinks to knees... arms raised... ::
Father! Thy heart too alive in ache... too alive within
love...
Firkusny - Sonata No.14 in C sharp minor, Op.27 No.2
'Moonlight' - I. Adagio sostenuto
Sir MMC... this one has sat here in the library... finally free of issues carried but didn't realize it... shed tears for hours but burdens of many decades are gone... Thank Thee Sir for such Morning Prayers shared.
And now... a truthful speaking... shall send a direct message but wanted to say publicly that this one tis grateful for the depth of Thy honesty within such emotional travels of the heart...
footfalls in younger days were not Quaker but were as many paths as days... therefore recognize when arcane knowledge dares to play a hand... a time when G-d walked the earth more closely.
Sir's emotional depths are usually reserved for the end of life... for old men after decades in forgotten caves not one with fire in loins unless the path is one of martyrdom or high priesthood in any one of the earth's religions...
There are several archetypes in motion... shall pen Thee about them... later this one will pen an emotional response but that shall take some courage if it is to be honest and immediately felt, as is preferred.
Again... it has been an honor to be included in such a way Sir... curtsey deeply placing a hand over heart... May Goodness ever grow between us.
:: as it ends... smiles and bows to Chelsa :: Thanks for mentioning this song... gosh! Forgot how much I enjoyed it... :-)
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Never Rains in Southern California
