I’ve spent another hour or two this evening sitting my writing spot in our house trying to find words to all that is swirling around inside. For a fair part of the time I have been listening to some of the songs that make up the soundtrack of my life. Similar to last night, I found myself landing on an old song I wrote with my friend Billy about what it means to be friends, one of our recurring themes. The opening verse of the song was a snapshot of our first meeting at a youth camp in the Ozark mountains where we did sit at the top of the cliff outside the dining hall and look down into the canyon at the river below. More than twenty years later, the question in the song pulls at me still.
are you
put on the coffee
and I’ll tell you a memory
we stood on the edge of time
as the river flowed silently by
we looked up at the stars
I still remember
and talked of what your life could be
you’re an old friend
so won’t you tell me
are you as sure of the dream
that you had on the way
finding enough of the truth
at the end of the day
caught now and then
by something like grace are you
are you still keeping a light on inside
shimmer of hope against the tide
finding that life is worth the ride
tell me — are you
remember the summer
we told one another
how we could change this world of ours
and quoted our heroes by heart
but here in this moment
we watch the way the river bends
you’re an old friend
I’m going to ask you again . . .
are you as sure of the dream
that you had on the way
finding enough of the truth
at the end of the day
caught now and then
by something like grace are you
are you still keeping a light on inside
shimmer of hope against the tide
finding that life is worth the ride
tell me — are you
Thanks for listening. Keep the light on.
Peace,
Milton
We lived on that same slice of river for 15 years. We loved our time at Camp Ozark, and the 15 years of friends we made along the way. I have always loved this song.
Milton,
You inspire. Keep writing.
Ragan
Thanks. Much to think about through these darkening days. I appreciate your willingness to share thoughts and feelings; to be honest when honesty isn’t a virtue we admire most days. I like the songs. They end my day well, and start me thinking in the morning.
Milton, the light is on, the song is singing…
Your youth camp memory stimulated my own. My best friend (from youth camp 1967) is still helping me find ‘enough of the truth at the end of the day’ and he knows he’s got my shoulder, if the need arises.
Thank you.
Ah Milton….you remind me of who I am. Oh that I may find the space and light in the busy-ness to write down what’s inside of me…