I am not a lunatic but madness might be a factor.
Do we wait for a savior, or bring one into existence?
Music resonates in consonance with the creator’s voice.
What isn’t transformed by fire is eaten by envy.
Many Boomers couldn’t get enough of the world;
everything opened, everything poured in, then too much.
One day, several years ago, I realized everything had changed.
Inner voices were unhinged by my confusion. Ageing does that.
Innocence has become more important as I have gotten older.
And I have wondered if idealism is another form of innocence.
Little by little, while on the road, a new voice
emerged that I came to recognize as my own;
the extraneous bits of life fell away.
There is no language for that,
only the surge of the soul
and the swelling of the heart.
from: Buckle Up! A Boomer’s Meandering Musings on
Innocence, Time, and Love, From Then to More Recently
Unpub. MS p. 39
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