Bobbin' Along

I state at the outset that this post has no predefined purpose. I don't know where I am going. I have no theme. I am writing just because I love to. Why do people bathe? To get clean, right? Well, maybe this is my equivalent. Why do people drink? To escape from a reality they don't particularly find edifying or meaningful? Okay, I think writing does that for me too. Whatever. I am sitting in my office listening to an old song of mine that I have revisited and updated. It is so funky I could just curse. When I wrote it years ago, it was just a track for rapping on. It had no chords or harmony of any kind, just a simple, hypnotic baseline, some snazzy understated drums, and an uninspired string arrangement. This baptised and born again version is too sublime for words. And when words are lacking, a poem must be nigh.

I wept and shed tears for those
whose prose
lacked energy and order
-any semblance of flow
whilst mine was divine,
defined by a mind so kind
and a soul much-maligned
yet refined
Again I say it is sublime

I don't know what that was. I don't rap anymore. This song is just... it is hard to explain it. Surely there are musicians and poets and lyricists and painters and other creative types who don't need me to explain it to them. For the rest of you, I'm sorry. Creating something, having something spring up inside of you and become alive without you even knowing what form it will take is probably the closest a mere mortal can get to being God. Before God was anything else to us, God was our Creator. Being endowed with this attribute is a blessing indeed!! I wish the whole world could feel this intoxicating, stupefying, unspeakable, undefinable-like-division-by-zero type of joy I feel right now. I'm going to go dance to the rhythm of my own soul now.