I wrote Rise Again! as a reflection of everything Autumn and the deep cycles in life. The mandolin part uses elements of Cooley’s reel.

Thanks for listening, liking & sharing!

I hear Your voice in the breeze, 
it whispers in Autumn trees, 
the golden leaf tells the tale, 
of how it turned bright right before it fell 
and how it will grow again.

Winter’s around the bend, 
her cold eyes like my best friends, 
we’ll dance around on slippery ground, 
till the whole Earth blooms again.

We’re waiting, we’re waiting for the end, 
but it just starts again.

When I feel like I’m fallin’, 
the wild wind whispers again, 
"My how you’ve grown my friend, 
you’re bright and beautiful but tend, 
to forget you’ll rise again!”

A Pleasant Refuge

"Do not cling to the pleasant. Let it pass, so the separation will not diminish you." - Buddha

"O God whose Grace supplies our every need, the thought of all apart from You is wrong." - Rumi

"Free me from the trap that is set for me, for you are my refuge." - Psalm

The pleasant.
The unpleasant.

"Awake, Alive, Another season."
The cold winter wind is pleasant and biting.
The things that are dear cut when held too close.

My life is filled with letting go.
The freedom of having nothing to hold onto.
The fledgling sticking to its nest. Will it ever achieve flight?
   (My nest is poverty and loss.
   I was born into a burning house.)

Free me from the traps I set for myself,
for You are my refuge.

A Dressing For Our Souls

"First one must establish one’s own high moral principles, then preach to others. It is very difficult to restrain oneself." - Buddha

"Retell it so the story will be healing, retell it as a dressing for our souls." - Rumi

"… since you have taken off your old self with its practices and have put on the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge in the image of its creator." - The Apostle Paul

The sun warms and the wind is still.
A moment of heat long enough to remove my jacket and enjoy the sun.
The wind picks up again quickly stripping the gathered heat.
The world is in a state of dynamic balance.
Always seeking stasis. Always disrupting stasis.
     Rise. Fall.
Sound is how we perceive turbulence in the air.
We hear nothing at an equal balance point.
The more out of balance, the louder the sound.
Our lives are also greatly amplified by imbalance. 
     Peak. Valley.
A kite dancing in the wind absently held by a child’s hands.
Its quality of life and usefulness tightly wound within the string
  tethering it to the earth. 
Does the kite realize its true source of freedom
  is held within the tensile strength of cotton threads?
A kite’s life ends when the string snaps.
     Tension. Release.

     The Morae are expert seamstresses. 
     Weaving the tapestries of history.

Father, tie me tightly to Your lamb’s arm.
Let Your spirit howl through me and lift me closer to You.
Help me to fulfill Your will in my life.
       I love You.