paths of many wonders – An Occasional Story or Magazine

The Urge To Write

This one is for all the writers and poets out there. It is presumptuous of me to put this song on here again, the Paths of Many Wonders song, but I thought I did it a bit better here. And about the little poem, it starts out a bit cynnical and ends up kinda mushy.

From whence does this urge to write arise?

From what source does it derive its power?

Nervous energy perhaps

Nervous energy very finely sublimated

Into quite marvelous and delightful results

Sometimes

……….

At its best this energy is expressed

And penetrates

To its pure form

Which is Divine Light!

More Paths of Many Wonders

I sung this one again the other day, but changed the tune and the lyrics. Otherwise it’s the same as last week’s post Paths of Many Wonders. Huh?

I did walk down paths of many wonders

I have walked in the forest in the afternoon

And I came back from the path of many wonders

I am walking the same path now

I have walked a path of many wonders

I see wonders everywhere

Since I walked the path of many wonders

I see wonders everywhere

Following is an excerpt from my novel One Life or the Lives of Chester Knowles. Chester Knowles, who everyone except for the reader thinks is dead, has just emerged from a months-long state of amnesia. He has re-discovered his identity and past:

Funny, now that he had recalled the missing part of his life – the piece that he had missed so much – now that he had it, it was no longer special. It was just another piece of the past. True, everything fit now, everything made sense. He was Chester Knowles, and logic and rationality could again take over. But they didn’t. There was no satisfaction in explanations anymore. Instead, what remained with him was simply a longing, a longing for beauty, and for freedom. A desire for beauty: for the mountains, for the sun, the ocean, for the trees, the birds, even for the people. There was a rhythm and beauty that called to him – a beauty that called to him. He could almost hear it. The beauty was everywhere. Chester could stay in LA; or just as easily he could go anywhere. He only knew that he wanted beauty. He wanted the feeling of the forest.

Paths of Wonder

I did walk down paths of many wonders

In the silence of the afternoon

And I returned to a land of wonders

Wonders… Wonders

……Paths of many wonders

I came back from a path of many wonders

And the wonders were still everywhere

Take my hand, come with me

To a land we shall share

Take me back baby

Take me back