WKHardy's Blog

Note by Note
Tone by tone
Sticks and stones
Blood and bones
What comes and goes ebbs and flows with these.
Put them all together as you please.
Color by color, thread by thread,
Paint the picture, weave the web,
What you have to say has never been said….
Endless change; nothing stays the same.

Black and white,  (it’s the singer, not the song),
Day and night,  (wait and see till all is done),
Sun and moon,  (there’s no space to be alone),
See you soon, (it’s not the song but it’s the tone),
What comes and goes ebbs and flows with these.
Put them all together as you please.
Color by color, thread by thread,
Paint the picture, weave the web,
What you have to say has never been said.
Endless change, nothing stays the same.
Endless change, nothing ever stays the same.

These lyrics in collaboration with Frans Koenigs.

recorded version at:  soundcloud.com/wkh

The pyramids are open and the treasure is no more,
The Vatican has opened up the lock on every door,
Atlantis built up Stonehenge with antigravity,
And Mona Lisa’s smile is smiling inside you and me.

I — no secrets.
You — no secrets.

Nazca lines are welcome signs
Machu Picchu comes to greet you
And the mystery is still true.

Easter Island started smiling
You and I are the messiah
And the mystery is still true.

Magic and a bit illusion
Such a wonderful confusion
And the mystery is still true.

Heisenberg shake hands with Merlin
Yes it really is uncertain
And the mystery is still true.

I — no secrets.
You — no secrets.
And the mystery is still true.
(no recorded version to date)

They say Be careful what you wish for,
The opportunity will come knockin’ on your door,
And you won’t have no excuses no more,
And the love won’t go away.

You can take the short way, you can take the long,
You can play the music, or you can sing the song,
You soon find out that there’s no right or wrong,
And the love won’t go away.

Somethin’ makes you happy and you know just what to do,
‘Cause you’re livin’ in the world and it’s livin’ in you,
Takin’ the risks becomes nothin’ new,
And the love won’t go away.

You take a chance you say Come what may,
You open the door to what you really want to say,
The thrill of it all starts to keep you awake,
And the love, the love, the love, the love,
The love won’t go away.

I look to the right and I look to the left,
When I look at you I proceed straight ahead,
Lately every mornin’ we laughin’ in the bed,
And the love won’t go away.

They say Be careful what you wish for,
The opportunity will come knockin’ on your door,
And you won’t have no excuses no more,
And The Love Won’t Go Away.

recorded version at :   soundcloud.com/wkh

I gave it all away,
Found a place where I could stay,
Sat myself down on that noble ground,
And I didn’t even have to pray.

Only one question was asked —
Could I take off my mask?
The Queen of Swords danced among my words
And there was nothing left of my past.

What do we know, What do we know?
What do we show, What do we show?
Process, Process, Process, Process,
Process, Process, Process, Process.

I thought I was a lump of coal,
But deep inside I found a soul.
It’s at the bottom of the mine where
The diamonds learn to shine,
Who could ask for anything more?
It’s at the bottom of the mine where
The diamonds learn to shine,
Who could ask for anything more?

recorded version at:    soundcloud.com/wkh

If there were threads on the wind,
they’d get woven together.
All the sparks on the wind would become
a flame in the sky.
Many casual greetings would become
and angels’ choir.
And every man, woman, child, alive
would know each other
Without name.

Every wing on the wind
rides on familiar feathers.
The ocean, the sea, the river, the stream
knows every drop of rain in the sky.
Many casual glances would arrange
for hearts to fly,
And every man, woman, child, alive
would know each other
Without name.

Every song on the wind
rings in the angels’ voices.
Every secret explodes and becomes
the sunlight in the sky.
Many casual gestures would arrange
Love’s symphony
And the family of man would love, and fight,
and live, and die,
And love, and hurt, and live to rise
to know each other
Without name.

And the vision that would see so clear
doesn’t live in the eye.
No the vision that would see so clear
doesn’t live in the eye.
Does not live in I.
Does not live in I.
Does not live in I.

recorded version at:     soundcloud.com/wkh

We reach.
God knows we reach.
We know we reach.
We can’t help but reach.
Whichever direction we choose,
We pull the whole world with us.

Every reach creates.
When the inside of us is dormant,
Feels dormant,
It is needing to reach.
It is waiting for the reach that is not done with arms
Nor with any blood-filled part;
Not the blood-filled heart,
But with the heart that has never died.

When we reach so,
We pull the whole world with us.
The whole world is created
Because God is reaching
And we can’t help but reach.
When we reach, we awaken,
We are God, we create,
And we pull the whole world with us.

Eloie imagined —
A plucked harpstring’s shimmer.
Opaque clouds across the moon.
Spreading wings.

How far again, is the distance?
Light years and seconds.
A thought.

Elysium, though, is getting crowded.
A dance of saints having found a limit.
Eloie, imagining, moves on.

Thinking that I can bring something into existence
I write words here.

This center or focus –
This point in the waves that I think from, is filled now.
A pressure of something that has hummed and then
Hummed deeper and has become a rippling sphere
And then has become dense and more, more dense,
Even heavy,
And pushes for its nascent explosion
And I try to write it here.

Humming Beauty and Reflective Grace
And Love that has been given to me
And Love that I have been,
Dazzle-swirling through me
Among the jubilation waves that form things
Within and around here –
This pulsing location that forms
When I think of ” I ” ….

So as this ” I ” looks with inner eyes
At the sounds of the humming,
Certain waves gather in that way that they do
And a flash-spark comes,
Being the birth of the thought;
Then dances, spins spiral-swirls and hums again,
In its search for the word that says it right and true.

Yeah, yeah, yeah …. This is all too serious and prolix.

The thing is — quantum physics waves and how they don’t really form anything until they are observed; focused upon; thought about; pinpointed — that’s a principle that seems to be at work in every creative moment, whenever anything is created; thought; felt … felt; thought; created.

Waves of possibilities are always around, and will gather and condense at points where they are drawn to meet
and will then explode into thoughts and ideas and emotional reactions and imagination and drive. Those waves can be inside one thing or a person or they can each be a thing or person or groups of things or people.
Or forces.
Or especially thoughts – thought forms.
They behave like waves then something focuses and they meet.
And every time all of that happens it’s the same thing that happened at the so-called Big Bang,
And it’s always the birth of SOMEthing.
SOME thing thought;
SOME thing felt;
SOME thing created.

Wasn’t that the time when we knew that it was all around us?
We knew, didn’t we, that the heavens and the winds and
The seasons and the sea held for us The Tone.
The Tone for our careers.
Pitched high in the diamond, deep upon deep from the mountain,
Ineffable from the amber planets;
We were held in it, and it held in us, and for us,
It was all.

It sounded its laws in all that we saw.
Life and Love in all.
In that time we knew.

Now we scramble, stammering in our existence.
Now we listen, the wandering pulse.
No Tone.
Nothing fine, nothing revered,
Nothing unconsciously sublime.
The Bottom Line.
The ubiquitous, omnipresent, Bottom Line.
Not a shred of Beauty ever reaches The Bottom Line.

Back away. Back away and look.
Inch by celestial inch.
Be Orion; look as he looks.
Be close to Sirius.
Thrive among the Seven Sisters
And gaze upon our planet, on its own terms.
And look into your own globe-holding hands.
In one hand, a continent of famine, of desolation, and piety.
In the other hand, a continent of abundance, of efficiency,
and abandon.

Listen – The Tone is still, awaiting your move.
Look – The Tone watches for humanity’s impetus.
Let The Tone’s magnetic pull raise your hands.
Raise them, and raise them, and fold them together.
Wasn’t that the time?
That time has never ended.

A thorough explanation would not be forthcoming.
Not in all the ages of our lives,
Though we asked in ten thousand ways.
And when we gave up the asking, the waiting,
And searched instead through senses and intellect,
We again felt captured.
Something there is that rings in us.
That fires us, and awes us, and makes us breathe.
Makes us clasp ourselves, in, with, and through
Wonder.
Then leaves us.

So we create our glorious radiant sets of symbols,
Shining, and in shadow.
Our mantel, both displaying and beshrouding;
Do we dare to crackle free of it?
And rephrase that implanted question?
And recognize forever
The Will that in the primal formed us,
Has forever fired us,
And has forever, though it seems to beckon,
Been our own?

</pre>