sounds of silence
A beautiful rendition of “the sounds of silence” is playing on an Native American flute right now . It’s soulful resonance takes me to a time when i wore strings of colorful beads around my neck and my hair fell long and straight below my hips. When i tediously self taught myself how to play the guitar,mostly so i could sing along. I learned the songs of Bob Dylan, and the other heroes of my time; Joni Mitchell, Judy Collins,Simon and Garfunkel. I also hooked up with a guy,who really stole my heart. We went to Woodstock together with a group,who we lost as soon as we began the long hike to get into the space where the music was. We spent two days there,listening to music, sharing food, pot,and water with whoever was kind enough to share,and there were many.After the music and the mud we hitchhiked home back to Long Island. Hearing of Richie Havens death has brought me back into those memories. My lover,the one who “really stole my heart” who I also married and had two babies with, is gone. Nine years after Woodstock, the drugs and alcohol finally got him. I know they got me and many others too, in so many different ways. I still live, having learned through many lessons how, and may have finally begun to figure some things out. One of which is don’t think too much and never stop listening to the music. The flute plays on.