The night is companionable right now. The kind of night I find my windows open, so that I can catch the upward drift of shadowed breeze. The kind of night I could let go the coiled time that so easily squeezes and slide instead into a forest walk that knows not form or place. It only knows the dreamscapes of thoughts that web through my mind when the day no longer holds sway. I want to listen to music on such nights, that seeps rather than calls to attention it's presence. And above all else, I want to slide into the air, and walk beyond my name, beyond my time and place. I want to lay on the grass so quietly letting go it's warmth and seach out the tiniest sliver of moon, draw stories around it within the cool air. It seems a good night to muse.
I am conceptualizing a song about moving on, about passing through death and into beyond. I am not sure I have anything meaningful to say on the subject. So I ponder a bit how to come to this topic, that I have up to this point avoided purposefully because I feel pressed upon by the cliche of all that has come before. Maybe that is my point in all of this, that there is no way to talk about death and have some sort of new thought. I suppose for me I am thinking less of those that are left, that IS something I have written within my music, but more of the moment of letting go...for the soul that is to pass. Pass into what, I don't know. I wonder if the letting go is an act of faith or one of pure release. I wonder how difficult it is to let go of the body that has housed for so long. The face that defines much of how we conceptualize the self. When you close your eyes and imagine yourself, do you see what you look like? I am not quite ready to write this song, so I write and sit in the dark with a glass of wine, desiring to let go myself and wander into the night.