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A Voice in the Wilderness

As nightfall does not come at once, neither does oppression. In both instances, there's a twilight where everything remains seemingly unchanged, and it is in such twilight that we must be aware of change in the air, however slight, lest we become unwitting victims of the darkness. -- William O. Douglas

Monday, August 16, 2010

Down Here Below
Abbey Lincoln
(August 6, 1930 – August 14, 2010)

Down here below
The winds of change are blowing
Through the weary night.
I pray my soul will find me

Shining in the morning light,

Down here below.

Down here below,

It's not so easy
just to 'be.'
Sometimes, I'm really all at sea.

You made me when the world was new
And skies were blue.

And I am here because there's you.

They say I'll never see your face
And we're all banished from your grace,
The one(s) you fashioned with your hand,
And scattered all across the land.

But I am happy just to know
That you will go where I must go
For there are wounds and scars to show
Living here down here below

Down here below,
The setting sun is shining
On a melancholy moon.
I hear the distant thunder

And the crying of the Loon
Down here below.

I'm yours alone
The only one to call my own -
The only one I've ever known.
Sometimes I see you
Standing there
Sometimes, I'm free.
And you are here - down here with me.

You made me just the way to be;
A Heart with feeling, eyes to see
A strong embrace, a simple hand,
A spirit free that says, "I can."

And I'm happy just to know
That you will go where I must go,
For you will send me this I know
Living here, down here below,
Living here, down here below,
Living here, down here below.

An I-Pad Painting

This painter's easel is an I-Pad.

Turn the volume down a little - it's a little loud and make sure you watch it through all the way to the end because there is where you will see a beautiful time sequence for the painting's progression from beginning to end.

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