| To The Woman That Moved Like Sweet Music |
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I saw you but briefly, moving like a song danced in motion-- So beautiful you put me in mind of our essence, our ties with primordial bliss. Music and dance are part of it, along with fire and sex and you had all that and more. Things that stir the primal in men, along with the instinct of survival--hunting, fishing, gathering, growing-- And oh so unfortunate, war. The first four the base experience always remaining essentially the same through the ages, the communion transcending our physical beings, freeing our spirits for the moment, perhaps to blissful revelation. The next four so fundamental to existence one can't help but feel the peace of true, spiritual belonging to the ancient circle of life. But then I thought of the last--War always somehow put into the balance, usually by the agenda of rule. And I just can't write of it when thinking of beauty, other then to say I wish it wasn't-- And that I much prefer this early morning dawn to think of gently swaying movement, the echo of primal rhythms, of softness, and love and the sun rising one more day. by W.J. Lynus O'Brien
on the fly Fairbanks, Alaska sometime in 2005 |
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