RoundandRoundandRoundand

The circles are turning;
This is the time;
The circles are turning,
The motion divine.
The circles are turning
The wheels on their way;
It is time that is burning;
Ten years or a day?
The circles are turning,
All beyond is a blur.
Old and young and not learning;
Are we still who we were?
The circles keep turning
And we have no choice.
For us, no returning;
Am I losing my voice?
The circles are turning;
We have no control.
Behind all your yearning,
Is there fear in your soul?

 

The turning of circles
Goes on without light.
Is it only illusion,
Here alone in the night?
It serves my confusion;
Am I "now"? Am I "past"?
This turning of circles,
How long can it last?
Once more, like those others,
The time and the place,
The turning of circles,
The masterless race.
Is this more than a glimpse
Of my time long since gone?
I am here, I am writing
Though the circles turn on.
Do I dare? Do I wish
To confront what I feel,
At this time, in this space,
What the circles conceal?

We belong to the circles,
All we lose, all we gain.
The circles bring life
And reclaim it again.
It is painfully simple,
The mystery solved;
When my circles cease turning,
I will have evolved.

Story, Road, Life

First, as it seems that The Flames of Eden has, up to this point, generated very welcome reflection & dialogue, I must point out that visitors should perhaps keep track of the comments in the previous posts, and my attempts *smile* at summing them up.

I am taking my time. The flames of Eden are too important, too instrumental in my life to just 'dive in'. When Bob Dylan wrote & sang about "The Gates of Eden" over 40 years ago, I think he gave himself an easier task, with all respect to him.
*******************************************
It is an astonishly beautiful Monday 10th November, 2005. I drive through Eden's lush landscape, from home to the ocean, beyond Lisbon's up-market resort-dormitories to the base of the Sintra Hills, where they meet the ocean. I stop to take countless photos of perfect waves rolling with power and grace, like they are choreographed, onto post-card rocks. White-capped, riding in majestic on a carpet of royal blue to match the sky, like the perfect end to their perfect, effortless journey over from the Americas.
Alone (it's Monday), I drive on another 3 miles/5kms to my destination for the afternoon, the jewel in this Eden's crown - Guincho beach.
More photos, wet feet, a small handful of other privileged time-on-their-handsters. Then, with time to kill and feet to dry, I head back up to the bar of the Muchaxo Inn (check www.muchaxo.com Click on 'bar' to see where I was sitting. See every page. You will fall in love, I promise. I've stayed there twice, believe me, it is as good as it looks), relishing the waiting beautiful coffee and croissants and the even more beautiful view of the sun setting into the ocean...............

 

 

 

 

Can it really be less than 18 months since that afternoon? It seems impossibly longer, so much has my existence changed and changed and changed since then.
Stories, like roads, like lives, have beginnings and ends. Identfiable and clearly defined. The middle only emerges in retrospect. Once begun, on any real or metaphorical journey - story, road, life - we are always in the middle, in a way. Time unfinished, action unfinished.
It was all so perfect and so accessible. I never took any of it for granted, never. I had good reason not to. All of Eden, with all it's multi-coloured flames; the bright ones, the dark ones. It is where I was born, what I fell into to, and which dictated my resistance, determination and profound need to stay there.
Without Eden and its flames, I cannot live, cannot survive; it has always been that way. Without them, I do not want to..........
So, a story, made up of many stories.
Are these the flames of Eden?

Or, in April...............

.....Are these orange and red poppies against a pure blue sky the flames of Eden?

 

 

 

Fire Always Works

Welcome to The Flames of Eden/As Chamas de Eden/Las Llamas de Eden/Les Flammes d'Eden/I Fiamme di Eden.

 

A curtain raising image that symbolises the flames of Eden? Perhaps. But then, why the flames of Eden? What does it mean? Anything?
Right from the start, I declare that it is a title that I created for a specific purpose 12 or 13 years ago. It has been with me, inside me, ever since.
Now that I want to try to make a blog which is more for words than pictures, it seems appropriate to reanimate my title as a washing line to hang out the freshly laundered words to dry.
For all the good and the bad that it can accomplish, fire always works. It is as potent an element and symbol as any of the others.
Just take a moment and think of how many different ways we can use, for instance, the word flame, for how many purposes. What do you spontaneously associate with it? Positive, or negative?
Associated with Eden, what now?
I should say now that this is not a place only for flames, fire. I think it is more about Eden, pre-Eden and post-Eden than just fire.
However, I start with a question, to which I would sincerely appreciate your answers, your impressions.
Please tell me, What Do You See When You Read The Phrase "The Flames of Eden".