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Friday, June 7, 2013

When Adventure's Lost Its Meaning





When Adventure's Lost Its Meaning


Keeping in touch with the youth, I found my granddaughter's copy of the lyrics to a song she loves.  
I do not know the name of the song...
A fellow blogger has commented that the author is Marta Keen Thompson

I know beauty when I read it.

It's odd to me that these lyrics appeal to both an 11 year old, and an old woman.  
To me these lyrics bespeak the homeward journey at the end of life.  
Perhaps to my little granddaughter these lyrics bespeak a secret heartthrob love, far away.

But maybe, just maybe, we all  have, in moments of deep sorrow or even deep reflection, been longing for "the homeward return, in time" ever since we arrived. Or maybe even on a particularly beautiful autumn day.











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Image result for images of clear red sky

"In the quiet misty morning, when the moon has gone to 

bed,

When the sparrows stop their singing and the sky is clear 

and red,

When the summer's ceased its gleaming, when the corn is

 past its prime,

When adventure's lost its meaning, I'll be homeward bound 

in time.




Bind me not to the pasture. Chain me not to the plow.
Set me free to find my calling and I'll return to you somehow.


If you find it's me you're missing, if you're hoping I'll return,

To your thought I'll soon be list'ning; 

in the road I'll stop and turn.

Then the wind will set me racing as my journey nears its 

end,

And the path I'll be retracing when I'm homeward bound 

again.


Bind me not to the pasture. Chain me not to the plow.
Set me free to find my calling and I'll return to you somehow.


In the quiet misty morning when the moon has gone to bed."

                                        by Marta Keen Thompson

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Feeling the change in the direction of the wind,

Riverwatch