[Dialogue] A tribute to New Orleans

[Del Morrill]

This was sent by one of my hypnosis colleagues as a meditation for the week.
I thought it helpful to share considering the extremely somber info I’ve
been forwarding lately:





"Life's challenges are not supposed to paralyze you, they're supposed to
help you discover who you are.“ (Bernice Johnson Reagon)



In the midst of world events, we have an opportunity to ask ourselves the
deeper questions, discover who we are, and to shift our consciousness to a
higher level.  And in the midst of it all, we can mourn our losses, value
the opportunity for expanded consciousness, and determine to re-create
ourselves, our world, in a way that more accurately reflects who we are -
spiritual beings come to experience life on this planet and learn to love.
And charity begins at home - within our own hearts and expands
exponentially.  In the midst of these life-changing events, my prayer is not
for restoration as much as it is that we awaken and answer the call to be
love in all its forms. On a more personal note, having been to New Orleans,
and understanding that this city is a major port in this country, the home
and heart of jazz - at least in my mind, and a vibrant city with a colorful
history, I feel the pain of a heritage washed away in part by the flood
waters, and am soothed by the worlds of a song made famous by Arlo Guthrie.





A Tribute To The City of New Orleans:



The City of New Orleans
Steve Goodman's song; version either Arlo Guthrie or Willy Nelson



Riding on the City of New Orleans,

Illinois Central Monday morning rail

Fifteen cars and fifteen restless riders,

Three conductors and twenty-five sacks of mail.

All along the southbound odyssey

The train pulls out at Kankakee

Rolls along past houses, farms and fields.

Passin’ trains that have no names,

Freight yards full of old black men

And the graveyards of the rusted automobiles.



CHORUS:

Good morning America how are you?

Don’t you know me I’m your native son,

I’m the train they call The City of New Orleans,

I’ll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done.



Dealin’ card games with the old men in the club car.

Penny a point ain’t no one keepin’ score.

Pass the paper bag that holds the bottle

Feel the wheels rumblin’ ’neath the floor.

And the sons of Pullman porters

And the sons of engineers

Ride their father’s magic carpets made of steel.

Mothers with their babes asleep,

Are rockin’ to the gentle beat

And the rhythm of  the rails is all they feel.



CHORUS



Nighttime on The City of New Orleans,

Changing cars in Memphis, Tennessee.

Halfway home, we’ll be there by morning

Through the Mississippi darkness

Rolling down to the sea.

And all the towns and people seem

To fade into a bad dream

And the steel rails still ain’t heard the news.

The conductor sings his song again,

The passengers will please refrain

This train’s got the disappearing railroad blues.



Good night, America, how are you?

Don’t you know me I’m your native son,

I’m the train they call The City of New Orleans,

I’ll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done.