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Singing

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  • Polly Menendez
    Singing is one way I feel like Spirit comes forth from me. I love finding songs that speak into my deepest regions, and then, by opening myself to sing in
    Message 1 of 2 , Oct 18, 2000
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      Singing is one way I feel like Spirit comes forth from me. I love
      finding songs that speak into my deepest regions, and then, by
      opening myself to sing in unison or harmony, I feel Spirit spreading
      it's wings. Divine Spirit, singing to It's wonders and beauty.

      One such song is, "Attics of My Life", written by Hunter, Garcia of
      the Grateful Dead. Since this is such a small list, perhaps it would
      be alright if I shared the words.

      ============

      In the attics of my life,
      full of cloudy dreams unreal.
      Full of tastes no tongue can know,
      and lives no eye can see.
      When there was no ear to hear,
      you sang to me.

      I have spent my life,
      seeking all that's still unsung.
      Bent my ear to hear the tune,
      and closed my eyes to see.
      When there were no strings to play,
      you played to me.

      In the book of love's own dream,
      where all the print is gone.
      Where all the pages are my days,
      and all my lives grow old.
      When I had no wings to fly,
      you flew to me.

      you flew to me.

      In the secret space of dreams,
      where I dreaming, lay amazed.
      When the secrets are all told,
      and the petals all unfold.
      When there was no dream of mine,
      you dreamed of me.

      =============
      Polly,
      Ever grateful for songs, poems, stories; anything, that is filled
      with loving Spirit.
    • pattimaris1675@aol.com
      Loved it Polly!! Attics of my life .... Nice way of describing old memories. Phrases like that carry me off into the dreams of my own memories, which places
      Message 2 of 2 , Oct 18, 2000
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        Loved it Polly!! Attics of my life .... Nice way of describing old memories.
        Phrases like that carry me off into the dreams of my own memories, which
        places me on my father's lap, all warm and cozy and filled with warmth as he
        told me his stories. Ah, he was such a great story teller. Such a great
        man. He passed on several years ago, however, I shall always cherish his
        warm loving memories and indeed his stories.
        Thanks Polly for sending me off on a nice memory with your song.
        Love, Patti
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