CHAPTER TWO - Leonard Cohen
you went a lot of times, taking your body down, rusty at the edge where love might begin, weakened and in the currants which push us away from the source of love.
if love is powerful then love itself can push someone away... someone who has not his roots in the ground... and though you went. she did not arrive. you were there but she arrived both long before and long after.
so you took your body home and fear itself nurished and grew and grew and rooted ever a little more, your body to its hand.
she's not there and the agony is as strong as the hills are long. but always, below and above, and even in hell itsself. love will be waiting for you.
or younger, yes younger, more youthful, more playful
can that really happen?
can trees appear younger?
can things that are growing,
while moving so slowly
i hope not, we need you
oh i see now, it's springtime
when the trees do look younger
all dressed in their newness
their beauty so haunting
there's one in my street
she's called lili marlene
i went for a 3 and a half hour walk today, down the lanes and across the fields and far away with a hoboe traveller by my side. he showed me things you can eat on the way and we found a tree all stuck by lighting and invisably hollow all the way through. he said tress were special if they got struck by lightning.
and so youve been again to meet every train in and you so nearly come home with lili marlene. but something is stopping love lasting and growing and instead is vanishing like a busy street in a rainstorm.