I had dreams last night that left me contemplative. I suppose this is called turning the corner, seeing the light; all those cliches that attempt to assuage the mucky walk that is moving on. I am somehow reminded of the different sacrifices in the bible and ways of penance. Sackcloth and ashes. Blood offerings. Burnt offerings. How different animals were opened for different sins. I can make lists of what I have sacrificed, maybe I will. Could be the basis for some poems. Perhaps, perhaps.
I may sound morose but really, I'm not. Contemplation is different from sadness. I think the two can be confused, and of course there are times when they are dancing a moribund waltz on one's heart, but it isn't always a bad thing. Aristotle said contemplation is the highest form of human activity. Get thee to thinking! And being.
And listen to this song. I love Andrea Echeverri.