Don’t ask why, ask why not…loneliness, that is

This post will likely slip through the cracks of blog-iety, the same way too many lost souls also slip away. By the way, my heart grieved horribly for the loss of Aaron Swartz who was peculiar in that he died (I believe) a martyr. Very peculiar, especially in the USA. This post is dedicated to all the beautiful people I love, but can’t touch.  Simon and Garfunkel, “A Most Peculiar Man”

To everything under the sun, there is a season…I imagine a seed aches during winter…cries out to be eaten by anything that already belongs. This next link is to a Donovan rendition of a poem by WB Yeats, “Song of the Wandering Aengus.” According to Wikipoedia, Aengus was probably an Old Irish god of love, youth, and inspiration. I’ll post the poem beneath the link.

I WENT out to the hazel wood,
Because a fire was in my head,
And cut and peeled a hazel wand,
And hooked a berry to a thread;
And when white moths were on the wing,          5
And moth-like stars were flickering out,
I dropped the berry in a stream
And caught a little silver trout.
When I had laid it on the floor
I went to blow the fire a-flame,   10
But something rustled on the floor,
And someone called me by my name:
It had become a glimmering girl
With apple blossom in her hair
Who called me by my name and ran   15
And faded through the brightening air.
Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,
I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands;   20
And walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done,
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.

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