in all blemished perfection
in all broken glory
woven.....patched....
many-knotted threads
comprise this song.....
a moon-trekker's
weathered rucksack
of clues...
a few dented bells.....
a bob-o-linkage of
crystalized wonderments....
strung from left to right and back.... again.....
truer lies....baffled by tricks-of-the-eye....and ear...
unraveled....
these ornaments, these trinkets jangle...jostling for position.....
break ranks...re-assemble.....
and all the while,
in their music....as cacophony would seem to reign,
there is a search for harmony.....for that melody.....
the one that exists despite and because of itself...its whole and unrelenting selflessness.....
and its name is love.......and its voice is everywhere.....
in all blemished perfection.........
in all broken glory......
dedicated with gratitude and respect to Leonard Cohen, Jeff Buckley and all you lovers of the dance
delilah contrapunctal.... yes, that's how I intended to spell it.........