This is where you will find me exposed, angry, embarrassing, plaintive, childish, inane, blemished, bemused and broken. Why do I invite you in? To drink your wine. To share your bed. To paint your walls. To touch your skin. To crack your shell. To steal your eyes. And return them open. To invade your prayers. To increase your song. To expose you to my madness and promise. To pour oil and wine on your wounds. To fail in all the above endeavors. Now it’s your turn.
Sunday, July 18, 2010
The Dove by Leonard Cohen
(painting is: The Dove whisperer by Renate Dartois)
I saw the dove come down, the dove with the green twig, the childish dove out of the storm and flood. It came toward me in the style of the Holy Spirit descending. I had been sitting in a café for twenty-five years waiting for this vision. It hovered over the great quarrel. I surrendered to the iron laws of the moral universe which make a boredom out of everything desired. Do not surrender, said the dove. I have come to make a nest in your shoe. I want your step to be light.
Leonard Cohen
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment