... and, as we know, music is dependent on the rests between the notes... the air that vibrates the reed or string. Gene, the space between words is as - if not MORE - important than many of the words themselves sometimes. We value your silence and hear each note of your song as yet unsung. And it is music to our ears. As winter is to spring, your creativity is on the move as yet unseen, producing this artistic restlessness. All will surface in its good time. Be well and make the most of the "quiet" - it will pass! :)) And I'll bet the new growth will be AMAZING! xx
Gene, dear friend, it will return...write of your journey. your feelings through this time of silence, sometimes the journey back makes new images showing a different voice...that is what I had to do a few years ago. Never lay the quill down, just because the song is not familiar. Sending good thoughts your way.
peace and blessings, Carole~
Gene, In case you missed it in its AD-posted form, here's my review:
GENE WILLIAMSON, FOR YOU
You’ve become a friend from afar,
Thanks to the way you diminish distance
With generous and quixotic asides
On what you see and hear and imagine.
(Were we to meet, we might
Have trouble shaking hands,
With that ink-stained quill glued to yours!).
You’re caught in a rough patch.
Yet, even mired in it,
You go on celebrating life
In restless nights you try to sing
New songs inside you.
The words that are their wings elude you.
But all your other words
Are a flock of never-nesting swallows.
Exulting many-tongued melodies.
And we are lifted by your voice.
With you, we rise on the updrafts
Of impossible imagination,
Become bright-hued fish in azure water,
Morph into pirates on the bounty,
Debate the ancients, chase skirts
And roar raucously at life.
We await your new songs,
When they are ready.
But, know this, dear friend:
We already hear so much
And go on listening.
Gene, Just take it one step at a time, dream purple passion dreams, my friend..You are going to back to your new improved self really soon. I shall send you healing energy..Just open and breath in the white light energy..(go to my website ambervmoonston.com, and click on the healing page...it will help you, I am there..)
Gene,unsung songs overload my vocal chords and hide in my imagination. Creating has become a pensive, tenuous process for me. There is no natural steady flow of an idea for poetry. It is now a labor. Even given that. It is wonderful work to have. I believe all you could possibly need is a quiet conversation, one on one with that gull friend of yours. Surely he will set everything right. My peace and love be always with you my dear friend. Jon Michael
Gene, buddy, believe me when I say it WILL take quite sometime to get yourself back to being yourself as for every day in a hospital bed it can take upwards of a week to again walk...learned my lesson last year with all that...hell I couldn't drive for well over 9 months as I did not feel safe therein...keep pluggin' away at it, as it will come eventually...Ed
When I wrote ths book in 2000, I was concerned about children having access to the Internet and to chat rooms where "you can be anyone you want." Here we are many years later and the situation with children talking freely to stangers on the Internet
Maria, raised in the Mafia and educated by the gangs of New York, is hunting the man who killed her Akalina, and she will kill anyone who gets in her way.
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Regis
peace and blessings, Carole~
GENE WILLIAMSON, FOR YOU
You’ve become a friend from afar,
Thanks to the way you diminish distance
With generous and quixotic asides
On what you see and hear and imagine.
(Were we to meet, we might
Have trouble shaking hands,
With that ink-stained quill glued to yours!).
You’re caught in a rough patch.
Yet, even mired in it,
You go on celebrating life
In restless nights you try to sing
New songs inside you.
The words that are their wings elude you.
But all your other words
Are a flock of never-nesting swallows.
Exulting many-tongued melodies.
And we are lifted by your voice.
With you, we rise on the updrafts
Of impossible imagination,
Become bright-hued fish in azure water,
Morph into pirates on the bounty,
Debate the ancients, chase skirts
And roar raucously at life.
We await your new songs,
When they are ready.
But, know this, dear friend:
We already hear so much
And go on listening.
Charles Neff
7/20/2010
Much love, light and peace my dear friend,
Amber
Axilea
John
Love,
Sage
of quietude a most lovely song Gene
Your presence embracing
Love & Balms
Vickie
And we all recognize the kind of nights you are so succinctly talking about....
Blessings,
Christine
(((HUGS))) love and prayer, Karla.