come in, she said, i'll give you shelter from the storm

most of us can remember cutting our musical teeth. for me, it was on my brother's large collection of dylan records. baptized in language and heart-breaking harmonic interludes, i fell in love with lyrics that sometimes only made sense to the soul.

sometimes there are so many things you leave unsaid. unspoken because it seems like the words you find don't sound right when held up to the light of what you mean.

when the choking swell in your heart stands at a loss, the raspy, plaintive breath of the harmonica can stand in your stead; the images sung in rhyming verse will present your case; robert zimmerman can become your voice.

several times a month, there is a music jam in our family room. it is mostly bluegrass, new grass or old tyme; soul music of mountain people. last night one of the musicians was late; a co-worker had been killed in an untimely accident having hit a patch of black ice. leaving behind a family of four daughters and the remainder of life unlived, his family requested this musician play a song at his funeral. turns out this man loved bob dylan. his family asked for "forever young".

the wishes of this song play like a rabbi's blessing. dan, sitting poised in the wooden chair, sang for the jam as a sort of practice for the funeral. my daughter, annie, and i turned our heads to the window. what is it about that music that pulls you from your now and carries you with it? like a cosmic magnet, we turn in reverence to its pole.

he is speaking our language.

it is a visceral response, that connective thread that needs no explanation.

sometimes music takes your wounded self and hides it in its bosom. dylan's "shelter from the storm" answers the yearning my brokenness feels in its repeated wooing, "come in, she said, i'll give you shelter from the storm". no matter if i am a creature void of form or an old man with broken teeth stranded without love, dylan sings this anthem of unconditional love. Feeling like this worn traveller, i take the healing balm of this last verse- "well, i am living in a foreign country
but i'm bound to cross the line
beauty walks a razor's edge
someday i'll make it mine
if i could only turn back the clock
when God and her were born
Come in, she said
i'll give you shelter from the storm"
there is no mystery there.