Waiting in the Weeds

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1keG263sXMg

“It’s coming on the end of August.
Another summer’s promise almost gone.
And thought I heard some wise men say that every dog will have his day,
He never mentioned that these dog days get so long.

I don’t know when I realized the dream was over.
Well, there was no particular hour, no given day.
You know it didn’t go down in flames,
There was no final scene, no frozen frame,
I just watched it slowly fade away.

And I’ve been waiting in the weeds,
Waiting for my time to come around again.
And hope is floating on the breeze,
Carrying my soul high up above the ground.
And I’ve been keeping to myself,
Knowing that the seasons are slowly changing.
Even though you’re with somebody else,
He’ll never love you like I do.

I’ve been biding time with the crows and sparrows,
While peacocks prance and strut up on the stage.
If finding love is just a dance, proximity and chance,
You will excuse me if I skip the masquerade.

And I’ve been waiting in the weeds,
Waiting for the dust to settle down.
Along the back roads, running through the fields,
Lying on the outskirts of this lonesome town.
And I imagine sunlight in your hair, you’re at the county fair,
You’re holding hands and laughing,
And now the Ferris Wheel has stopped,
You’re swinging on the top, suspended there with him,
And he’s the darling of the chic, flavor of the week,
Is melting down your pretty summer dress, baby what a mess you’re making.

I’ve been stumbling though some dark places,
And I’m following the cloud.
I know I’ve fallen out of your good graces
It’s all right now.

And I’ve been waiting in the weeds,
Waiting for the summer rain to fall.
Upon the wild birds, scattering the seeds,
Answering the calling of the
Tide’s Eternal tune, the phases of the moon,
The chambers of the heart, the egg and dart.
A small gray spider spinning in the dark,
In spite of all the times the web is torn apart.

And I’ve been waiting in the weeds,
Waiting for my time to come around again.
And hope is floating on the breeze,
Carrying my soul high up above the ground.
And I’ve been keeping to myself,
Knowing that the seasons are slowly changing.
Even though you’re with somebody else,
He’ll never love you like I do. “

   Don Henley and Steuart Smith  (from Long Road Home ‘07)

Have you ever had music get in and fill your soul, stay in your mind and becomes a soundtrack for memories?  What would my soundtrack be for each year of my life?

Ash’s Life Soundtrack Vol. 18

“Closer, do you want to know a secret, do you promise not to tell…”  The elevator doors close at the top floor in White Hall, my dorm at ECU.  Kevin would corner me, squeeze me, and nuzzle his song into my ear.  I would be so ticklish, the hair would stand on end at the base of my neck.  He kept singing, and the song sent tingles down my spine.  Every time I hear that Beatles sing, “I’m in love with you, whooohoohoo…” it feels like I am in a time warp.  I can close my eyes and actually be in that moment that the hair stands up on the back of my neck again. 

Vol. 19

Once Kevin was gone, I occasionally stood drunk in the middle of the dance floor at The Elbow Room, in tears while Van Morrison’s “Brown-Eyed Girl” served as my soundtrack.  Drunk from 10¢ draft beer, I would usually be surrounded by fellow freshmen with fake IDs and no common sense.  The overload of Kamikaze shots provided fuel to the already rampant fire.  I became proficient in identifying “my song”.  By the end of the semester, I could burst into tears by the end of the third note.  It didn’t really matter, I stood in the crowd of strangers who could not see through the smoke and beer goggles. 

It took me a few years to hear the song without the lump in my throat and drop in my belly.  And now, on a good day, scanning through stations on Sat Radio, and stop because I see “VAN MORRISON” on the channel description.  On a really good day, I sing along to one of my all-time favorites. ”Hey, where did we go?  Days when the rains came? Down in the hollow, playin a new game.”  It brings me a smile that come from deep within remembering days long ago.

Vol. 35

Unpacking my office, I sat on the cold tile floor and fell in love all over again.  The small cd player that sat under the window in the conference room, began playing a familiar melody of guitar and mandolin, and the smooth voices of the Eagles.  I dropped my stack of filing.  The music beckoned me to move into a deep, organic flow.  The notes and lyrics moved into my spirit and and pierced deep to my core. 

And I’ve been waiting in the weeds, waiting for my time to come around again. And hope is floating on the breeze, carrying my soul high up above the ground. And I’ve been keeping to myself, knowing the the seasons are slowly changing.

I bowed, curled in and pulsed out.  My spine moved as if it were playing hide and seek with the melody.  The harmony became my partner in my soul’s dance.  I became the spider spinning in the dark.  I felt the web breaking apart, and the spider beginning again.  The tears sweetly rolled down my cheeks, and I softened more with each note and syllable.  I danced with the memories of the many who have taught me to love.