jessephotocopyAll best wishes for the New Year to my Dear Readers.

New Year’s Eve─2016─and I’m sick with  stomach flue, or some approximation of that ailment. But I’m feeling good enough, for now, to want to post another lyric on my lyrics page. I’ll put it here as a blog first as my little contribution and acknowledgement of the New Year. Hope you won’t mind a bit longer than usual introduction to the lyric; I think it will aid in the reading of it.

Lilasuka is out grocery shopping with her son, Narottama, and his wife Lyndsey (visiting from Portland). Tomorrow we’ll be celebrating Christmas at our house with them as well as my three, and their five, collective children. They’re all doing mostly wellrelatively (pun intended and both meanings implied) speaking.

My Dad’s gone several years now. Mom’s doing mostly well and is cheerful, for the most part, and even jolly frequently though she has, in the last couple of years, had to relinquish her house and car and move into an assisted living facility. It’s a good one, as those places go and it’s in her home town so she knows all the others there.

I’ve been married to Lilasuka now for fifteen or sixteen yearsI’m not at all good with dates. They’ve been, in many ways, the best of my years. We’ve lived just outside of the Krsna community for the last few of these; it was a returning home for her. Myself, I have very few long time friends. I’m sad about that. Apparently, things in common have fallen away with absence. My most dear rescuer/benefactor/spiritual Master has never left me, has tirelessly followed me around, even when I neglected to follow Him or His behests.

But so much sadness and pain over the years from broken marriages and separated family and friends. I’ve written so many songs and poems in dealing with these things, in attempt to make them “larger that life”. Because life can so easily become small and weak. So I’ve made anthems to the tragic. I know I’m not alone in that endeavor.

Once, Master Kirpal Singh was sitting with some disciples and one of them said to Him: “Master, thank You for everything.” and Master looked at the disciple and said, “for Everything?” The disciple had to reflect for a moment, but then replied in the affirmative.

So that is the spirit of my song here, A Grateful Man (Yes, for everything). The word vichorde, in the lyrics, is a form of the Punjabi term for separation.

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A Grateful Man

          Jesse S. Hanson

Vichorde, vichorde; I’ve been in love for so long
My colorful life has gone grey; I know there’s things I’m doin’ wrong
But… someday my ship come in; my confidence is not misplaced
This is the song of a grateful man, for every trial that I’ve faced

 As I look out on these misty hills; so many things they call to mind
A man goes where his Maker wills, and then he leaves it all behind
A wisp of smoke in a lonesome dream, though it seems quite strange and real
I sing this You this song, a grateful man, for every sorrow I’ve been made to feel

              Once again I’m gone to pieces
              In the face of everything that I can see
              My mind has always done just as it pleases
              Unfaithful mind, I don’t know how you can be
             
              Once again I’m gone to pieces
              In the face of everything that I believe
              My mind has always gone just where it pleases
              Unfaithful mind, I don’t know how you can be

Vichorde, vichorde; He separates the night and day
I feel that I’ve been cast away, so long ago but who can say
In the market place or on a desert island, if by chance our paths should cross
I’ll sing you this song of a grateful man for everything that I’ve lost

Vichorde, vichorde; I’ve been in love for so long
My colorful life has gone grey; I know there’s things I’m doin’ wrong
But… someday my ship come in; my confidence is not misplaced
This is the song of a grateful man, for every trial that I’ve faced

 

 

 

 

 

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