These friends of mine
Live their lives
Spend their time
Hoping to find
Who they are
How they’re made
Thought maybe they’d
Help to find the way
These friends of mine
They have lives
They work hard
To live them right
And when they laugh
It makes me high
They’d take a train
10,000 miles before they’d fly
These friends of mine
They feel alone
When the shows are over
Don’t know where to go
In Philadelphia
At Christmas time
They question love
Wonder why they try
And when the show is over
How I hope that they discover
The joy that they bring
And I hope they remember
This bond we have together
And how they love to sing
These friends of mine
Live in New York
They were raised in Michigan
They don’t know things
They don’t hold hands
Guard their hearts
The best they can
And when the show is over
How I hope that they discover
The joy that they bring
And I hope that they remember
This bond we have together
And how they love to sing
They sure love to sing
Maybe I needed this time
To be reminded for myself
Maybe I needed this time
To be reminded for myself
How I love to sing
Rosie Thomas
Song & Album: These Friends of Mine
Came to your blog via googling Florence Scovel Shinn and discovered the connections between her, Abraham, Ernest Holmes and a long lineage of ‘New Thought’ writers.
Had a feeling to leave this poem by US poet Mark Strand, which really conveys how poetry can go beyond words and talk to the silence between the lines (and it’s also in keeping with the falling snowflakes on the page :) )
A Piece Of The Storm
by Mark Strand
From the shadow of domes in the city of domes,
A snowflake, a blizzard of one, weightless, entered your room
And made its way to the arm of the chair where you, looking up
From your book, saw it the moment it landed.
That’s all There was to it. No more than a solemn waking
To brevity, to the lifting and falling away of attention, swiftly,
A time between times, a flowerless funeral. No more than that
Except for the feeling that this piece of the storm,
Which turned into nothing before your eyes, would come back,
That someone years hence, sitting as you are now, might say:
“It’s time. The air is ready. The sky has an opening.”
Beautiful! Thank you for sharing it. There’s quite a bit of poetry here on my blog also under Mary Oliver, Ranier Maria Rilke and the poetry category, also under the music category. You might check out Suzanne Vega’s ‘If Language Were Liquid’ in the music category. Again, thank you! from another Sagitarrian also – double Sag to be exact :)