“Ain’t no mercy on the streets of this town
Ain’t no bread from heavenly skies
Ain’t nobody drawing’ wine from this blood
It’s just you and me tonight.”
“Tell me in a world without pity
Do you think what I’m asking’s too much?
I just want something to hold on to
And a little of that human touch
Just a little of that human touch”…by Bruce Springsteen
They do drop by Earth Twirl—donchaknow? And! Sometimes—not often—though—carry songs from—Outbound World…’Peace on Earth and Goodwill to Us All’…Family is never a burden—Family is always a privilege. Abstract Logic—spins—to make worlds— more—governable…Forests grow—with seed landing—symbiotic in mixtures—of soil—sweet fungi—insects and magic—resistant ways—and—protection from diseases—and—the pleases of mankind—governable desires…Life—always—in harmonious chaos—and eternally pleases Life… Even (imperfect) —perfect math—omits—variables…So! Our perfect future—can never be created—the matter—of-the-matter—will damn—‘us physicals’—every time?
Goddess is—the Dancing One—the Witch of life—Creation…And! Goddesses—create Heavens and Earths—Moons and Suns—and—pass Spirits to—formed matter—and—from forms—back—to Spirits’ rush—and substances’—free… Correct notes—piper of silver flute—held ‘gainst heart ‘beeps’ of—a roaring sea—pass others—into light—and—set others ‘cross star streams bright—and starlight’s sight—setting just—beyond sun—beyond sea—and—gentle morning—sky…
By the fire light—of—dwindled tribes—-children—marvel at both—the dancing flames and the warmth—of lights against—the nights and outside—shadows beyond—their eyes. They listen— and stories tell—-the starts of things—-now gone and of—-those grand places—-no start—just—imagine—and see—in minds’ ‘to be’—desired regions of—before dream—and after—‘wishing’ was true…’Painted pictures—loving caves—and walls—and tribes of—‘we’ and ‘me’ and ‘us’ and ‘them’ and—before storms and—after rains end— winds and bumping things— silent shrieks—once loud now gone—from ear and fear and tear. Once again—please share moments—and—lives and the power—of life. Blood and love is—the matter—of-the-matter and the survival—of these survivors—of—wherever gods and whatever storms. Instincts trust in…For anticipation may—often fail?
Walk around Village Square…A great man—takes his son’s hand—and—they wander the snow-covered—light-filled—place…Trees-huge-bright and sky-night-right. Hillside and just above them—choir calls—past songs—of moments—to be—and— future days—to see… “What do you hear?” Father asks. “Music” the boy answers…”And what else?”—Little children—hear the magic of sound—present—and questions—are never—answers…“What do you hear—Papa? I hear—the gentle wings—of middle angels—the thunder of snowfall —the twinkle of lights and…You” he answers.
‘Peace on Earth and Goodwill to Everyone and Love for All Children’—would be sweet—donchathink?
And! Beautiful you are…
‘A Spaceman Came Traveling’…performed by Celtic Woman