Song Comments

Ah, yes, the poem that isn't his...the Monk's, that is....but what about the MAN underneath the monk's robe, the one who lies naked in his bed at night, his mind wandering, searching to be an instrument of God's peace...therein lies the true poet?

Missing word (c.h.ink) appears not to have been politically correct... shaft, then, or flash even.. och..

...and then one day, a of light, a spark of life, and layered notes of insight.. and the call of something, possibly inexpressible . Was good to catch sight of you again Ron D... Be weel, and may some good things happen to you yet..

.. To write about meaning and what's true, to write about what matters now, to write about what's behind appearances amongst the trees and the rivers and the stars and seasons and the rain that falls and the sea that never fills; and the coldness and warmth that enfold our lives, and news that's ancient...

I hang about sometimes, you know. At your old house but nobody comes and goes. Must have moved into that log cabin amongst the trees, I guess. High, where the rivers trickle, where the stars sweep down on cloudless nights. To write lesson plans, and remember many things....

buds sprouting the birds singing, golden sunshine, the frog, crickets, prayer. make me an instrument of peace...... just such a fine poem with great moral values and reflections. dear poet. thank u. tony