I write you from a hilltop house high above Newport Beach in California. Mom and I hiked up to the top of the neighborhood this evening and saw the city lights for miles and the stars above them. The day began cloudy; we flew into a sea of grey in the sky and down below. But the stars bode well for the weekend. I’m here with Mom for a day of speaking on books, several days of writing and occasional meanders down the shore. It should be good. Here’s a bit of a poem I scratched out the other day to get the inspiration flowing:
It’s a getting up
A keeping on
The singing of an endless song
A turning round until you’re right again.
A setting to,
A journey on,
The dance to an eternal song,
A crazy tune that never seems to end.
It’s the high road up to heaven
And it just keeps windin’ round,
Up to laughter, down to sorrow,
Through the nights and new tomorrows
And though I’m breathless, still it seems that I am bound,
To journey on.
Life feels like that sometimes! (Especially when, like me, you act like a gypsy from days of old.) Come October fourth, I’m home for good. Or at least a month. But meanwhile I intend to keep up the crazy song and sing my heart away to this endless dance of a life. Here’s wishes for music to you all too. Keep up that crazy dance!