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Very few experience unconditional love.
Most see in another a projection of their own ego or desires- to
 really see someone is to be able to love them - unconditionally.
Love is not the mind- not even the heart, but everything.
Love is blindness.- Lowell Greenberg

Artist: Bette Midler (Conway Twitty)
Words & Lyrics by Amanda McBroom

Some say Love it is a river,
that drowns the tender reed.
Some say Love it is a razor,
that leaves the soul to bleed.
Some say Love it is a hunger,
an endless, aching need.
I say Love it is a flower,
and you it's only seed.

It's the heart, afraid of breaking,
that never learns to dance.
It's the dream, afraid of waking,
that never takes a chance.
It's the one who won't be taken,
who cannot seem to give.
And the soul, afraid of dyin',
that never learns to live.

When the night has been too lonely,
and the road has been too long,
and you think that Love is only,
for the lucky and the strong,
just remember in the winter,
far beneath the bitter snow,
lies a seed that with the sun's Love,
in the spring becomes the rose.

"After the Bath", Edgar Degas
"After the Bath," Edgar Degas

FROM A DISTANCE

Written by Julie Gold
Performed by Bette Midler

"From a distance, you look like my friend, even though
we're at war. From a distance, I just cannot comprehend,
what all this fighting is for?"

"The Harvest", Vincent van Gogh
"The Harvest," Vincent van Gogh

HOLD BACK THE DAWN

By Robbie Robertson
Album: Storyville


Hold back the dawn
Hold back the dawn
Won't you raise up your hand
And hold back the dawn
I dreamt if I could lay you upon this bed of straw
We may break the rules but we don't break the law
Come across but the river's too wide
Come across but the river's too high
Over by the fountain where we meet
I will lay silver roses at your feet

Hold Back The Dawn

ON MY WAY TO YOU

M. Bergman / A. Bergman / M. Legrand

Yet all the time I knew it
Love was somewhere out there waiting
Though I may regret a kiss or two
If I had changed a single day
What went amiss or went astray
I may have never found
My way to you

The Glory of Love

Words and Music by Billy Hill

You've got to give a little, take a little
And let your poor heart break a little
That's the story of, that's the glory of love

You've got to laugh a little, cry a little
Before the clouds roll by a little
That's the story of, that's the glory of love.

FOR ALL WE KNOW

Words by Sam M. Lewis & Music by J. Fred Coots

For all we know we may never meet again
Before you go make this moment sweet again
We won't say "Good night" until the last minute
I'll hold out my hand and my heart will be in it

For all we know this may only be a dream
We come and go like a ripple on a stream
So love me tonight; tomorrow was made for some
Tomorrow may never come for all we know

WEDDING SONG

By Bob Dylan

I love you more than ever, more than
time and more than love,
 I love you more than money and more
 than the stars above,
Love you more than madness, more than
 waves upon the sea,
Love you more than life itself, you
mean that much to me.

LOVE IS LIKE A RIVER...

By Lowell Greenberg

Warmly embracing in the summer
Refreshing in the spring
Unforgiving in the cold winter

Endless contradiction
Soothing... healing... punishing...
Clear yet mysterious- possessed
of fury & tender nuances
Pure & tainted
Resistance & flow
Trysting, dancing & still
Unfathomable wisdom & old memories,
 yet forgetful & directionless
Alive and forever joyful yet with tears
to fill an eternity
Death & decay… life & rebirth

River - take me home- to where I have always,
but never been- to myself.

LOVE IS BLINDNESS

U2

Love is clockworks
And cold steel
Fingers too numb to feel
Squeeze the handle
Blow out the candle
Love is blindness

Love is blindness
I don't want to see
Won't you wrap the night
Around me
Oh my love
Blindness

A little death
Without mourning
No call
And no warning
Baby...a dangerous idea
That almost makes sense

Love is drowning
In a deep well
All the secrets
And no one to tell
Take the money
Honey
Blindness

Love is blindness
I don't want to see
Won't you wrap the night
Around me
Oh my love
Blindness

REQUIEM (FOR THE GIANTS)

By Eileen McGann

400 years ago a seed, chance fallen, grew
In virgin forest land that never white man knew
In woodland silence it rose and flourished
By northern wind was shaped, from earth and sky was nourished

White pine, silver birch
Sing their names in requiem
Giants of our northern land
We'll never see your likes again

200 years ago the giants ruled the Shield
'Til white man came and saw the profits they could yield
They fell like thunder and left no trace
But giant stumps that stand as headstones in their place

In north Ontario some giants still remain
Though few in number now the axe-man comes again
What will you tell them when your children ask you why
Our last remaining forest giants had to die

And what gives them the right I ask
To take what's not their own
To kill a living beauty that 400 years has grown
To take and sell our heritage to fill pockets for a day

And when this crop is gone, what will they say
And when this crop is gone and the trees are gone
The wild is gone and the beasts are gone
And the tourist gone and the money gone
What will they say?

White pine...
Silver birch...
Requiem...

WISE MEN IN THEIR BAD HOURS

by Robinson Jeffers

Wise men in their bad hours have envied
The little people making merry like grasshoppers
In spots of sunlight, hardly thinking
Backward but never forward, and if they somehow
Take hold upon the future they do it
Half asleep, with the tools of generation
Foolishly reduplicating
Folly in thirty-year periods; the eat and laugh too,
Groan against labors, wars and partings,
Dance, talk, dress and undress; wise men have pretended
The summer insects enviable;
One must indulge the wise in moments of mockery.
Strength and desire possess the future,
The breed of the grasshopper shrills, "What does the future
Matter, we shall be dead?" Ah, grasshoppers,
Death's a fierce meadowlark: but to die having made
Something more equal to the centuries
Than muscle and bone, is mostly to shed weakness.
The mountains are dead stone, the people
Admire or hate their stature, their insolent quietness,
The mountains are not softened nor troubled
And a few dead men's thoughts have the same temper.

Also: Robinson Jeffers: "Peace Poet," by Justin Raimondo

Top and middle paintings© 1996 Corel Corporation
The painting "Hold Back the Dawn" by Bill Clayton.

 

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