Tonight as we gathered with good friends, let me rephrase that, remarkable friends in Tubac for one last meal, laughter and commemorate moments I was stricken by the words of "The Rose"...
I have been accused in the past of many things... "Sentimental", "Gushy", "Optimist", and of course "Idealist".... I am proud to say yes... I am these things.
Visiting Tubac for two weeks this month brought this home.
You feel as though you have arrived home,
As though your presence is illuminated in friendship. I have entered the lyrics for 'The Rose" below.
I have also added my feelings after each stanza.
"The Rose"
Some say love, it is a river
That drowns the tender reed.
Some say love, it is a razor
That leaves your soul to bleed.
Some say love, it is a hunger,
An endless aching need.
I say love, it is a flower,
And you its only seed.
That drowns the tender reed.
Some say love, it is a razor
That leaves your soul to bleed.
Some say love, it is a hunger,
An endless aching need.
I say love, it is a flower,
And you its only seed.
Love, like a flower waits eagerly for seeds to be planted and nourished. Fertile soil and open minds that have developed through years provide fruitful seeds of experience. Everywhere around us lies expansive minds of love and friendship. These minds provide wisdom of ages, wisdom of searching, and wisdom of friendship
It's the heart afraid of breaking
That never learns to dance.
It's the dream afraid of waking
That never takes the chance.
It's the one who won't be taken,
Who cannot seem to give,
And the soul afraid of dyin'
That never learns to live.
It's the heart afraid of breaking
That never learns to dance.
It's the dream afraid of waking
That never takes the chance.
It's the one who won't be taken,
Who cannot seem to give,
And the soul afraid of dyin'
That never learns to live.
There is no fear of dying in the land of the living. The souls who live in Tubac live with ghosts of yesteryear, ghosts of their formal selves, and ghosts of common ground.
They relish interactions with living souls who acknowledge the spirits of all years. There is no such thing as fear....we all die.
When the night has been too lonely
And the road has been too long,
And you think that love is only
For the lucky and the strong,
Just remember in the winter
Far beneath the bitter snows
Lies the seed that with the sun's love
In the spring becomes the rose.
When the night has been too lonely
And the road has been too long,
And you think that love is only
For the lucky and the strong,
Just remember in the winter
Far beneath the bitter snows
Lies the seed that with the sun's love
In the spring becomes the rose.
There is fertilization in this area... in the land of friendship. This land lies in our searching, in our longing and in our travels... wherever that may be. To leave home, to believe in others, to listen, ... we are truly connected to everyone
to the seeds that lie buried in the winter of our minds.
Spring with it's release...
Gratitude for the rose that lies in Tubac.
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