The Widowhood of Every Government.

I have been editing all day long and my brain has now turned to mush.

I am ovulating and exhausted, somehow more interested in eating myself in to a carbohydrate induced coma this evening then writing anything vaguely existential here.

I did have plans to write about dreams and letters.

I even said I would out loud.

But it’s the steam.

I’ve got none.

So with that in mind, I turn to Neil…

And I would like to give you this, before bed which never ceases to inspire. I adore this film.

The birds they sang at the break of day

Start again I heard them say
Don’t dwell on what has passed away
or what is yet to be.

Ah the wars they will be fought again
The holy dove
She will be caught again
bought and sold and bought again
the dove is never free.

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in.

We asked for signs
the signs were sent:
the birth betrayed
the marriage spent

Yeah the widowhood
of every government —

signs for all to see.

I can’t run no more
with that lawless crowd
while the killers in high places
say their prayers out loud.

But they’ve summoned, they’ve summoned up
a thundercloud
and they’re going to hear from me.

Ring the bells that still can ring …
You can add up the parts
but you won’t have the sum

You can strike up the march,
there is no drum

Every heart, every heart
to love will come
but like a refugee.

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering

There is a crack, a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in.

– ‘Anthem.’ Leonard Cohen.

And a pretty amazing photo I pinched from Helen Razer’s blog today of an aerial shot of a thunderstorm in Iceland overnight… Oh yeah… Excellent. Thanks Helen.

I’m sure I’ll be really interesting and energised tomorrow.

Sheesh.

x.

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