journey

the deepest dreams of men and women will bring them either together or take them apart.

dreams decide all.

there is no choice about dreams , none about feeling.

there is no choice for flowers nor for stones.

the mind creates time,

lives with the illusion of free will, fights what it cannot fight: death, life, even love.

there is not the one word which will bring change.

there is a silence to let go,

to sink, to fly.

the melancholy of journeys is that we know that we may arrive at the point where we left and that this kind of home always accompanies us, so hard to

forget.

what is real? sun, rain, soil, moving, scent, voice, touch?

or dream? sleep?

does it matter?

Von meinem iPhone gesendet

Cup of Wonder , Jethro Tull

May I make my fond excuses for the lateness of the hour,
but we accept your invitation, and we bring you Beltane's flower.
For the May Day is the great day, sung along the old straight track.
And those who ancient lines did lay will heed the song that calls them back.
Pass the word and pass the lady, pass the plate to all who hunger.
Pass the wit of ancient wisdom, pass the cup of crimson wonder.
Ask the green man where he comes from, ask the cup that fills with red.
Ask the old grey standing stones that show the sun its way to bed.
Question all as to their ways, and learn the secrets that they hold.
Walk the lines of nature's palm crossed with silver and with gold.
Pass the cup and pass the lady, pass the plate to all who hunger.
Pass the wit of ancient wisdom, pass the cup of crimson wonder.
Join in black December's sadness, lie in August's welcome corn.
Stir the cup that's ever-filling with the blood of all that's born.
But the May Day is the great day, sung along the old straight track.
And those who ancient lines did lay will heed this song that calls them back.
Pass the word and pass the lady, pass the plate to all who hunger.
Pass the wit of ancient wisdom, pass the cup of crimson wonder.

Ave Maria ,Jascha Heifetz ,Schubert

Jascha Heifetz ,Tchaikovsky, Waltz