Past, Present, and Future

Kathy's Song
I hear the drizzle of the rain
Like a memory it falls
Soft and warm continuing
Tapping on my roof and walls.

And from the shelter of my mind
Through the window of my eyes
I gaze beyond the rain-drenched streets
To _______ where my heart lies.

My mind's distracted and diffused
My thoughts are many miles away
They lie with you when you're asleep
And kiss you when you start your day.

And a song I was writing is left undone
I don't know why I spend my time
Writing songs I can't believe
With words that tear and strain to rhyme.

And so you see I have come to doubt
All that I once held as true
I stand alone without beliefs
The only truth I know is you.

And as I watch the drops of rain
Weave their weary paths and die
I know that I am like the rain
There but for the grace of you go I.

-Paul Simon

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It's raining today. Which means I'm listening to Johnny Cash, Bob Dylan, Joan Baez and the rest of the 60s. Which means I'm feeling...well, the way I feel when I see myself in puddles and hear my history in someone else's song. This probably means confusion to most of you so I'll translate: I'm feeling happy, in a subtle way.

I once thought my life ambition (and my way to fame) was to write an epic poem about time. Then I remembered I was not a poet and moved on to my next life's ambition, which involved dropping everything to study relativity. Then I rememberd I'm not so big on science...and long story short, I'm working at a boy scout camp for the summer. We all must find our place.

But back to the epic on time--I don't know if it's because of changes in the weather, but I've had moments where I experience a temporal eclipse; past, present, and future making one circle around me in a brilliance of clarity. One such moment: watching mom play the guitar, 'Kathy's Song' maybe, on the back porch of the Weber. The present was the past was the future, in the dust suspended on light, in the tired and worn wood walls, in the unpredictablity of our flesh versus the permanence of the music...and I saw my mom as the child she was and me as the child I am and my own children laughing too...

You see now why abandoning the epic was prudence.


In the past, I was in New York City. In the future, I will be in Jackson Hole. And today, it's raining.