18 August 2015
Home to House – Lost in Crowds
Greetings Dear Reader,
I attempt to be the same person in every venue. I do not want the working world to see one person and the social world to see another. I want to be genuine. I also need to be respectful of those around me and not impose my difficulties on them.
Because I wish to be both honest and considerate I find that I am stymied at times. I do not desire to burden others with how I feel at times. I also do not wish to engage in the perfunctory “how are you” exchange that is the common American greeting.
Due to this I often find that I do not engage in genuine talk about how I am at all. Again there is a hard deck here. On the universal scale I am just fine as frog’s hair. God has promised this and that is enough for me. In the current events, however, I am not fine.
So the harried part of my heart struggles with how to express itself. I do not want to abuse the small time I have with those who share time with me. I need to find an outlet for the things I feel but none of the old venues are working. So I have to simply maintain until a path is found.
For now I must look to others and be what I am meant to be to them. There is always solace in being good to others. There is forgetting in being kind. There is joy in the journey even when walking in the rain. Then again if nothing changes it may still serve the greater good. After all, HE must increase and I must decrease.
Lost in Crowds – Ian Anderson
I get lost in crowds: if I can, I remain invisible
to the hungry mouths. I stay unapproachable.
I wear the landscape of the urban chameleon.
Scarred by attention. And quietly addicted to innocence.
At starry parties where, amongst the rich and the famous
I’m stuck for words: or worse, I blather with the best of them.
I see their eyes glaze and they look for the drinks tray.
Something in the drift of my conversation bothers them.
So, who am I? Come on: ask me, I dare you.
So, who am I? Come on: question me, if you care to.
And why not try to interrogate this apparition?
I melt away to get lost in this quaint condition.
In scary airports, in concourses over-filled,
I am detached in serious observation.
As a passenger, I become un-tethered when
I get lost in clouds: at home with my own quiet company.
Herald Tribune or USA Today. Sauvignon Blanc or oaky Chardonnay.
Asleep for the movie. Awake for the dawn
Dancing on England and hedgerows
Embossed on a carpet of green. I descend and
Forgive me I mean to get lost in crowds.
Wishing you joy in the journey,
Mat 13:52 So Jesus said to them, "That is why every writer who has become a disciple of Christ’s rule of the universe is like a home owner. He liberally hands out new and old things from his great treasure store.”
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