Moving things.

I have written about how I would not, could not listen to music after July 7th. One of the things that was damaged after the train journey I still haven't finished. Anyway, I reckon it is time to re-engage. I can run and run and work and work and write and write and do whatever I can think of, keep moving, keep on keeping on and never ever go back to what I feel after the bomb, but that is a half-life. I have learned new things, and I have remembered old lessons.

The more you avoid it, the worse it gets and one of two things happen. You get deadened, you harden up. Or you get haunted and exhausted by fighting the ghosts, keeping them at bay.

This is where I want to get to.

Grief melts away
Like snows in May,
As if there were no such cold thing.
Who would have thought my shrivelled heart
Could have recovered greenness? It was gone
Quite under ground; as flowers depart
To see their mother-root, when they have blown;
Where they together
All the hard weather,
Dead to the world, keep house unknown

Some of the commenters, Sean, Bob, gave me some ideas following the post about the Berekah Project and talked about what to do when I wrote about being scared to listen to music because it was too much. And thank you to them, because they inspired this post, and me asking for help and ideas.

I wanted to ask visitors to this blog this:

if you knew you needed to cry,
or just stop, or think,
or feel sadness, beauty, anger
( any, or all of these things)

and you could recommend
something to listen to,
somewhere to go,
or something to read
( any or all of these things)
that would take you there - what would it be?

What makes you melt? What makes you weep? What medicine do you feed your soul to thaw it out and feed it up and break it down and lift it up?

UPDATE: I have been bowled over by beautiful suggestions. BIG Thank you x x x