The Red String of Destiny

 In America, some people believe in soul mates, or true love, two people who are meant to be together in exclusion of all others. I don't particularly hold to this, that there's only one right person out there for everyone. In Japan (though it originated in Japan), the talk about the red string of destiny, which ties two people together. It may be a long string, have knots or tangles, but it's tied around the finger of these two people. I really like the imagery of it, it's much more appealing and visceral than "souls". It's arguable whether it's limited to love. I'd have to do more research. 

    The following poem was written with this in mind. Akai Ito is Japanese for "red string".

"An invisible red thread connects those who are destined to meet,

regardless of time, place, or circumstance.

The thread may stretch or tangle,

but it will never break."

- an ancient Chinese belief

Akai Ito

Where does this red string go?

It goes out the door,

stretches down winding roads.

It is wet in the places it crosses rivers or streams.

Or is that the ocean?

It passes so quickly over the horizon.

Sometimes the other end feels close,

but there is only another knot

typing up the hands of the clock.

When the tangle unravels

I lose sight of it again.

I wonder

if the other end is half a world away or down the street

around the corner, tied to some bright smile

that lights up whenever I speak.

Where does this red string go?

All I know is somewhere

there's someone at the end.

Short of Breath

Short of Breath

And this love,

which for once didn't seem to burn

on the fuel of the not quite unrequited,

this is the love I sang of:

the star crossed,

tangled knot twist of fate

the prayer she'd never let go

wave-borne to crash

against the rocky shore

where it now lies

beached and gasping,

the tide of possibility and desire

rushing back to sea

so constantly just out of reach,

a storm that left behind

only the frantic need to relearn how to breathe

this essence of life that we call air,

this necessity which, in the short, exquisite

hourglass of this love,

was replaced by something

more intoxicating, entrancing, encompassing,

and more precious than oxygen.

Myself and Somebody Like You

     Another set of lyrics without music. Another of my endless love songs for no one. I think, perhaps, that when they become love songs for someone (or somebody), they'll probably still hold on to that feeling. But that's a story unwritten.

Myself and Somebody Like You

Lookin' ahead

I know we're getting closer

Lookin' ahead

I can almost see you

day by day 

the picture's getting clearer

like the way home 

on a winter night.

So the road's been long

so the way's been winding

who cares when the journey's end

is just the start

I know there's a greater adventure

for myself and somebody like you.

Lookin' back

things are still a little fuzzy

Like I've had a few too many, that's right

I can't tell

if it's all hist'ry

or if there's a story that's yet to be told

So the road's been long

so the way's been winding

who cares when the journey's end

is just the start

I know there's a greater adventure

for myself and somebody like you.

Lookin' at me now

I know there's one life we're living

one red string 

though it's tied in knots

if you follow its path I know that you'll find me

like the way home

it just feels right.

So the road's been long

so the way's been winding

who cares when the journey's end

is just the start

I know there's a greater adventure

for myself and somebody like you.

and I know for the rest of my life

it'll be

just myself

and somebody like you

just myself and somebody like you.