Tuesday, July 11, 2017

Deep music...


Eleven pipers piping, so the carol says. I didn't count them, when the McGuires came skirling down Main Street on Coon Dog Day. Even one piper can cut my mind loose from any present circumstance and send me wandering over deep waters to far mountains in some home I've never seen.

There is a music deep in the bones, along with the sounds of wind in the laurel and water falling on rocks and the wild cry of a lone hawk high and away, A music written in our cells, that calls us from however far we've wandered, back to the place where we are real.

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