Missing the mark. Being off the mark… Over and over… and…. weeping. Weeping and then deep laughter. A tune… the silent hanging instruments. Sudden sound… the intimacy of a song. The intimacy of a symphony. The intimacy of … an event. To experience a gathering… in house, in hall… on a street corner… dancing on the bow of a sailboat… dancing in the rain… dancing between puddles. Missing the mark… Off the mark… to see that care in connection.
Passings. Feeling the absence of neighbor. Feeling the absence of a long ago woven moment. Feeling the absence of a voice that is long silent… yet, so present in moment… moment memory. Passings, making room for emergent tendril weaving… a symphony of tapestry. A tendril symphony… woven… a tapestry… across the all and all of creation.
It is raining. thick drops of rain. The storm upon…
Thinking of long departed friends. The various choruses of … all gathered in song. The gathered ensemble. Sudden in raised song… woven tendril… sudden in raised song.
A friend has taken a leave. Another sudden gone in passing. Another sudden passing… and another… just passing… the gentle laying down.
Missing the mark… starting from off the mark. Music speaking in tendril weave. The guitars hanging… and now singing. The recorder… long in drawer… out and singing. Long silent… now singing.
Loving notes… tendril weave. Some sung… some touched… some – to make new living. All of creation. Just down on the farm… here and there… rain… now falling in sheets. Rain… now tendril weaving in tapestry sheets… thin and thick…
There it is… a song on the dancing storm. A song… on the dancing storm.
Long silent strings… singing… long silent muse now dancing… long silent … long gone… now gathered all around and in chorus… across the weave of time… all singing. In harmony … all singing. Just so… there in moment. A new suit of strings… bent to guitar… bent to dobro… bent to bouzouki… bent to requinto… singing… singing with voices of chorus… with solo song… with duet… with trio, with quartet… all in dancing song.
A lone cowboy… teaching to sing the middle french… and now, in canyon… the walk… that song of the walking of the lonesome valley… with chorus all around. there…
I think of Charlie… recovering from a stroke… brilliant and with care.
I think of bands… long ago… and bands now…
I think of a chord… sung with many voices… in this sheets of rain moment… they are all singing. Every one… even those who cannot be in same room the more…
Missing the mark… off the mark. Connected in tendril weaving. Hearing a song … from a different voice… yet, in tendril weave…
A song of voyage home… a song of love passing… a song of new birth… Yes… in each… the tendril weaving of … the all of creation.
So… in this moment… giving thanks. Those here… those passed… those moments of tendril weaving… a magic… just so… a magic… or … a sacred… the turning from missing the mark to being with the moment mark… a turning from being off the mark… to being in moment anchor… anchor and dance… To Roy… to Cam… to Roger… to Lyle… to Paul… to Leo… to Barb… to Pam, and Pam… To John… to Vance… to David… to Ellen… to Myrt… to all the voices… to Amy… to Spud… sudden to acadian … a place that … held silent… yet, so foundational… all on the tendril weaving… a gift. Just so… a gift.