october in los angeles

The unchanging change is the mystery of rhythm.
Things grow and die and time alone continues-
things grow and die and grow again, a backbeat,
a pulse, a bass drum thump. There are
times and seasons for all things: a time
for sky and a time for sea, a time for roses
and a time for roots, a time for laughing and
a time for singing, a time to write and
a time to speak, a time for all things which
are to be no more, and to be again.
The unchanging: change is the mystery of rhythm.

The unchanging changes- the mystery of rhythm.

Elihu bar-Barachel

He said to me What gain is it
to God if you are righteous
or if you are upright Has not
God made all things and does He
not put HIs breath in all that
lives Will not the dead see God
does not the redeemer live And
then will you you Job wail and
cry that you are robbed of right

And I said to him I have
seen the face of the Almighty
and I cannot stand He thunders
and I cannot stand He walks
throughout the valley and all
the bones are clothed And I
am an old man now and full
of years

Untersberg

These are days to make
Men think that ravens
Might fly around the peak
And the old red king might
Wake and rise. These are
Nights that harrow hearts,
That call up hymns from
Fallow eyes. But take
Heart, for the end is
Not yet.