“Think not of the pain I caused but the healing of my love.”
In the vast ocean of thought and emotion lived a form. Through the speakers stained with dust, you hear his voice. He recounts his adventures and conquests. Beautiful women, naked , full breasted goddesses. Divinities of the heavens populate his words. They are, of course, normal girls. The ones you pass on the street and not give a second thought to. Leonard Cohen was his name. A moniker affixed one day by some a records keeper bent on an orderly existence. But, for the man who this name hung upon, his existence hinged on something greater. It was Leonard Cohen who created Leonard Cohen. Out of the depths of a soul, a mystical hibernation awoke. From the inkwell and onto the page, a man was born and grew up. He was a lover of beauty. He knew that without beauty there is no thought.
“For you, dear one, I say all that is true.”
The news says that Leonard Cohen died on this day. Those who accept that will be sorely disappointed that this is not an obituary of Leonard Cohen. I come not to mourn that he will not take another breath upon this earth. Instead, I celebrate. Whether or not you realize it, Leonard Cohen exists all around us. Once a shapeless form. An incomplete idea. His identity was that of a man. That dreaded spot where you become a statistic to be counted and quantified. However, Leonard Cohen was not a number. In the mind of a poet, numbers do not exist. They are the chains of limitations.Imagination bound in the cold light of normality.
“You inspire thought.”
Limitations can be broken through the kiss of the goddesss of divinity. Leonard’s goddesses where visions, vipers and vamps. Flawless and flawed at thme same time. The daughters of Eve of the Garden fame. Cohen told us that the goddess was a every woman you pass on the street. These words, by themselves just incoherent sounds. They tumble from his lips and paint a portrait. It twists and turns. Leonard wrote himself into existence. He became Leonard Cohen with each passing measure. A man, an artist.
“Poetry is hearing your voice. My words are an homage to your divinity”
So, as I sit here scrolling back through the index of chaos, placing structure where none need exist. I wonder what words can I use to enhance the legend of Leonard Cohen. Words were the foundation and pillars that gave meaning to the shapeless mass.
“Your love is creation.”
Leonard, you may rest now. Your words have show the possibilities of the mind. They have given us an alternative to the drab. Brought light to the dimly lit places. Taught us to respect the art of the tongue. They taught me that there is nothing beyond my grasp. They have comforted me in a time of loneliness when there was no one else but you to listen.
Thank you, Leonard Cohen.
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