First off, Zee welcome :) I did not know you are new to the site and want you to know that I appreciate your contributions and I am happy to see you here!

Gary, I LOVE the lyrics you wrote! I especially like the line

Might raise a dagger or a toast

To the deepest part of me

I see lyrics and poetry as messages or sparks to growth...they often evolve as you do and do MUCH more for me than parables (a personal choice). I am excited to explore your words further when I have a bit more time. Thank you for sharing!

I saw a bunny run across the street on solstice morning and thought it odd as I have never seen one on a road before (except when camping). The night before I had heard a beloved song called "Cornflake Girl" and it mentioned "rabbit, where'd you put the keys girl?" and the week prior I was fascinated by a song that is named "lost keys, blame Hoffman", which is my maiden last name...I decided to seek out other "rabbit" related songs to see if there were some messages that I need to hear from songs of the past that have now evolved. I went back to one of my favorite albums from 2000, by one of my favorite bands that has a song called "Rabbit King" and these lyrics REALLY struck me more than they ever had (and this is an album I hear AT LEAST once every six months or so).

"I used to wake up behind the wheel; I used to hurt before I could feel; I used to cower in every direction; I used to tolerate without discretion." ~Rob Wynia of Floater

I feel that a similar lesson is to be sought from your words

Is that a shadow in the night

Yeah, perhaps the time is here

I could tell if I had more light

I could see without the tears

I leave a white and turbid wake

Heading for a vast unknown

It’s a call I can’t forsake

I can feel it in my bones

I am light filled. I have been spreading my "shine-ease" for my entire human lifetime...I am working to embrace the darkness so as to be balanced...a "call I can't forsake...I can feel it in my bones." Thank you for the precious insight to explore...VERY POWERFUL.

Namaste,

Heidi