C.G. Jung: “The life that I could still live, I should live, and the thoughts that I could still think, I should think.”
Bob Dylan: “Anything worth thinking about is worth singing about.”
* * * * *
And Bob Dylan, Too
(by Mary Oliver)
“Anything worth thinking about is worth
singing about.”
Which is why we have
songs of praise, songs of love, songs
of sorrow.
Songs to the gods, who have
so many names.
Songs the shepherds sing, on the
lonely mountains, while the sheep
are honoring the grass, by eating it.
The dance-songs of the bees, to tell
where the flowers, suddenly, in the
morning light, have opened.
A chorus of many, shouting to heaven,
or at it, or pleading.
Or that greatest of love affairs, a violin
and a human body.
And a composer, maybe hundreds of years dead.
I think of Schubert, scribbling on a café
napkin.
Thank you, thank you.
