Nancy G. Brundrett's Heartmusic Journal
 

 
Whatever strikes my fancy now and then....
 
 
   
 
Sunday, June 26, 2005
 
Raindrops
By: Bonnie Waters

Raindrops are falling on my window,
Sounding like wheatfields when the wind blows.
Memories are calling, and the rain keeps falling
Just like teardrops.
Teardrops are falling on my pillow,
So many feelings I can't let go,
So many good times that we spent together,
I remember them all,
We were always chasing rainbows,
But I know into each life a little rain must fall.
Sometimes I give in and let myself feel sad
When I think of you,
But I know that you'd remind me, before too long
The sun will come shining through.
Raindrops are falling on my window,
Ghosts of what once was move like shadows,
I'm under the weather, but soon I'll feel better
When I picture you,
Out there somewhere, smiling down on me,
Like you used to do.
And then I'll remember that the summer rain
Makes the flowers grow,
And it may come to mind that
Sunshine turns raindrops into rainbows,
Raindrops into rainbows,
Raindrops into rainbows


* I love these lyrics. Bonnie Waters is very talented and tender. I lost contact with this dear friend and hope we can reunite....
check out her website
www.bonniewaters.com

Bonnie, if you somehow out of the blue read my blog please contact me. I have so much to catch up on. I wonder what you are doing. I love you friend and pray for you often...

nancybrundrett@hotmail.com

Blessings to all that read Bonnie's lyrics. Visit her site and buy this cd, it is great "Heart Music"

Nancy G Brundrett
www.nancy-heartmusic.com

Friday, June 24, 2005
 
Got Jesus and My Guitar
By: Nancy G. Brundrett

I once had a dear friend
A gift truer than true
Then my life crashed in
Our colors all turned to blue
Through my tears I hear the words to
"Itís a beautiful day"

I once had a lover
With golden hair and blue, blue eyes
Sometimes all day weíd just stare up at the sky
But he went eastward
And I went down
To oleí lonesome town

But I got Jesus and got my guitar
My bleeding heart is a vessel
Not half, but whole
So Iím singing from the depths of my soul
I got Jesus and I got my guitar

I once had a life, a family
Just one more look now so I can see
Hello momma, you too dad
You both left quickly
I remember all the good times we had

I once had a song
Did you see her cry?
All this bad weather
My soul reaches up to try
Praying to the heavens up above
Restore me with the peace of a morning dove

Restore my world
with just one swing of your sword
My heart, my soul
need to be restored
Human words always get in the way
I must be prayerful until I know what to say
But I look around at the joy I've found in this rain
Take me back to a place, a time, a space, maybe start again

Until then,
I got Jesus and got my guitar
My bleeding heart is a vessel
Not half, but whole
So Iím singing from the depths of my soul
I got Jesus and my guitar
I got Jesus and my guitar
I got Jesus and my guitar
I got Jesus

Thursday, June 23, 2005
 
Goodbye

How do you say good bye to someone you love?
How do you make such a decision in the first place?
Life makes it for us
Reason and emotion donít go hand in hand
But our hands
Fit nicely together
Until life told us otherwise

Goodbye
Is such a cruel sounding word
Like death
It plagues the mind of the living
And the heart that is used to giving love

But goodbye
Sometimes
Is not a final end
But the beginning of a new chapter
And the creation of a fond memory
Which will keep our heart company forever

Goodbye my friend
I love you
 
The Sound of Silence
By: Paul Simon

Hello darkness, my old friend,
Iíve come to talk with you again,
Because a vision softly creeping,
Left itís seeds while I was sleeping,
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence.

In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone,
íneath the halo of a street lamp,
I turned my collar to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of
A neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence.

And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more.
People talking without speaking,
People hearing without listening,
People writing songs that voices never share
And no one dare
Disturb the sound of silence.

Fools said I, you do not know
Silence like a cancer grows.
Hear my words that I might teach you,
Take my arms that I might reach you.
But my words like silent raindrops fell,
And echoed
In the wells of silence

And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon God they made.
And the sign flashed out itís warning,
In the words that it was forming.
And the signs said, the words of the prophets
Are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls.
And whisperíd in the sounds of silence.
 
Walk Down This Mountain
By: Bebo Norman

It's a better place
Standing high upon this mountain
I've seen your face
Full of the light that holiest height can show
Blessed hand is why you you've given
But you've been given all you'll ever need
To know
So walk down this mountain
With your heart held high
Follow in the footsteps of your maker
With this love that's gone before you
And these people at your side
If you offer up your broken cup
You will taste the meaning of this life
Hey hey
Well it's a common ground
And I see you're all still standing
But just look around and you'll find
The very face of God
He's walking down into the distance
He's walking down to where the masses are
So walk down this mountain with your head held high
Follow in the footsteps of your maker
With this love that's gone before you
And these people at your side
If you offer up your broken cup
You will taste the meaning of this life
Hey hey

This life
We're standing in a place of peace
And this is how the world should be
How the world should be
(Walk down this mountain with your heart held high)
How the world should be
(Walk down this mountain with you heart held high)
How the world should be
Walk down this mountain with your heart held high)
How the world should be
So walk down this mountain with your head held high
Follow in the footsteps of your maker
With this love that's gone before you
And these people at your side
If you offer up your broken cup
You will taste the meaning of this life
Hey hey

Thursday, June 16, 2005
 
Deeper Still
By: Bebo Norman

She turned her head as if to hide,
there was just nowhere to go
ĎCause standing tall on every side,
the mighty fear of letting go
She said, my God I'm so ashamed,
thirty years a tragedy
I still believed that he could change,
but he pulled me down like gravity
He broke my will,
but it's deeper still, deeper still

She told me morning was the time,
when the sun burned bright and clean
And love grew fragile on the vine,
all wrapped up in gold and green
ĎCause after all we know we all are
after all the same things
But for the sun no rain would fall,
and it burned him up and turned him mean
This fire that kills me,
it's deeper still, deeper still

Tonight I rose up with the moon,
and looking down from high above
I saw a world carved and confused
into valleys deep in need of love
And falling down all thick with grace,
Heaven's cloud of mystery
Was filling every empty space,
down tothe depth of human need
This love that heals,
it's deeper still

love that heals me, love that heals me,
love that's deeper still
love that heals me, love that heals me,
love that's deeper still
This love that heals me, it's deeper still,
it's deeper still

Tuesday, June 14, 2005
 
Canyon Spirit

By: Nancy G. Brundrett

The gentle evening breeze on my face

Takes over my senses

as I rest from the desert like heat

The Indian sunset swirls with warm dusty colors

With the majestic celebration of a new day to come

And now washes away yesterday in the sky

Leaving only thoughts and memories etched in my mind

The smell of this ancient canyon is a familiar scent

it cools the crisp, dry arid winds

The lonesome trees that stand near the rivers

Are splashed with rustic hues

bending their limbs from the heat of thousands of days

Rooted deeply because of the fear of no water

Reflections of this beautiful sunset are painted on the canyon river waters

as they slowly meander south

The ocean waves of old formed these rocky caverned terraces

They crashed through and craved this canyon land



The cool canyon breeze on my face

Relieves the weariness deep inside my bones

from the sizzling heat and arid climate

How many souls have sat at the bottom

Of this canyon land and thought

of the powerful hand of God

That formed this special place

If I listen hard enough, I can hear the past voices of Indians

and travelers that walked these paths

A past and a future we all possess

That sojourns this magical haven

but the canyon has no past or future

It just stands strong forever never changing

Breathing in all the spirits breathe

exhaling all fear and worries

Night is upon me now with the moon and the stars

Shining in the dark veiled sky

it is time to slow down, be still and listen

And let the Spirit catch up to my heartbeat and desires

Life is good today as I rest in the everlasting arms

Of my creator and lover of my soul

Tuesday, June 07, 2005
 
Nancy Gottschall Brundrett
Born in Yokohama, Japan
June 7th, 1952
On the 7th day of the week
7th day of the month
Weighting 7 lbs. and 7 oz.
Born at 7 minutes after 7
On the 7th floor of the Japanese Hospital
Room 7

I think 7 is my lucky number.

Well, celebrate with me today. I am very blessed. God has given me a beautiful family and a grandson too. God has blessed me with His Spirit. He has also given me the gift of songwriting and poetry. The Lord has blessed my soul with the gift of being able to play the guitar and perform my Heart Music sound.

So thank you Lord for loving me and gifting me with special gifts. I am grateful.

I will make my annual birthday trip to the ocean to watch the sun set and melt into the horizon of the Gulf of Mexico in Corpus Christi today....

Blessings to all that come to my blog journal site..

Nancy G Brundrett

www.nancy-heartmusic.com

My favorite poet
Rod McKuen
www.rodmckuen.com

San Francisco Poem

To learn the how of happiness
to understand its why
you need an eye that looks inside,
an ear that hears sweet thunder
long before it makes a noise.
All things cannot be captured
or even understood
good is so much of itself
not found out or explained.
And rain is only rain to some
but holy water to all lovers.
A condiment,
as sun to earth is merely
the other side of shade.
First battles
are the ones remembered best
they occupy an equal space
in heads bent over with too many years
even sickness will not force them
from the mind afire with pain.
These memories are like the lark
reoccurring and returning out of season.
Red heart, red blood are so akin
they are and have been always
fellow travelers.
Night.
Twelve past the hour of twelve,
so says this headís history book,
stars aplenty and of every kind
enough to fill a lower heaven up,
to burst and burn inside the eye.
Then flicks of light,
dot, dot, dash -
not stars exploding in the trees
but something else
finishing almost before it first arrived.

 

 
   
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