Music matters. Almost every day, my brother forwards links to YouTube music. Sometimes it’s hand-clapping-foot-stomping songs, other times orchestral, soul-soothers, or amazing skyped-together pieces. This morning Dan sent the Salvation Army Songsters singing, Count Your Blessings. Actually, that’s a good practice. As for me, it beats succumbing to fear, or tabulating what’s missing.
For instance, when I was growing up, we didn’t have much, but we had a piano. Taking piano lessons wasn’t put to a vote. We took them. And as for practicing, we did! Often Mama sat beside me, pounding out the beats like a human metronome. I never thought to count that as a blessing. Most nights, we gathered around the piano and sang in two or three part harmony. Music took us to better places, fed faith and hope, poured joy into empty places. Music brought us together. And it still does in this world of pandemics and just protests, whether singing to cheer, marching to bring about change, attending a memorial service or participating in a virtual church service.
Like I said, music matters. But why? A few years ago I came across this poem and shared it with some of you. Today I hope it comes as a thoughtful blessing. Keep counting.
MUSIC by Anne Porter from Living Things: Collected Poems
When I was a child
I once sat sobbing on the floor
Beside my mother’s piano
As she played and sang
For there was in her singing
A shy yet solemn glory
My smallness could not hold
And when I was asked
Why I was crying
I had no words for it
I only shook my head
And went on crying
Why is it that music
At its most beautiful
Opens a wound in us
An ache a desolation
Deep as a homesickness
For some far-off
And half-forgotten country
I’ve never understood
Why this is so
But there’s an ancient legend
From the other side of the world
That gives away the secret
Of this mysterious sorrow
For centuries on centuries
We have been wandering
But we were made for Paradise
As deer for the forest
And when music comes to us
With its heavenly beauty
It brings us desolation
For when we hear it
We half remember
That lost native country
We dimly remember the fields
Their fragrant windswept clover
The birdsongs in the orchard
The wild white violets in the moss
By the transparent streams
And shining at the heart of it
Is the longed-for beauty
Of the One who waits for us
Who will always wait for us
In those radiant meadows
Yet also came to live with us
And wanders where we wander.
This story has been viewed 41 times
1 person HEARTS this story
7 Comments
Jan, Mucho gracias for the poem and your reflections. It reminded me of a passage from Toni Morrison’s novel the Bluest Eye. The young narrative Claudia laments over her mother’s anger from all who have wronged her in this world, but…” when she looks back to when she was a young girl who hated those days when her bitter and angry mother could stand at the kitchen sink in a tirade all day, enraged at everyone from her no-account children to President Roosevelt. But, Claudia recalls:
If my mother was in a singing mood, it wasn’t so bad. She would sing about hard times, bad times, and somebody-done-gone-and-left-me times. But her voice was so sweet and her singing eyes so melty I found myself longing for those hard times, yearning to be grown without “a thin di-i-ime to my name.” … Misery colored by the greens and blues in my mother’s voice took all of the grief out of the words and left me with a conviction that pain was not only endurable, it was sweet” (25-26).
Beautiful, tender prose, Dan. Thank you for sharing these words. They sing into my soul. Now,I must add this novel to my to-be-read-list. Peace blessings to you in Colorado.
Believe it or NOT, I used to sing to our middle child, Doug, who did not sleep through the night for over two years – no hyperbole included. I still remember the words, but what I remember most was the love I felt as I sang and looked at this young child. Of course, later I learned he went to sleep to avoid my song. No matter; it was a sweet time.
Blessings, Dale
You’re a good dad, and a faithful friend, Dale. I’ll include you in my blessing count tonight.
I enjoy reading your notes, Jan. This came to my inbox around the same time as your post today. A beautiful rendition of “Life Every Voice and Sing” from a Baylor University student: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tvCfNziHdDI. Music does encourage, inspire and challenge us. Thanks for your good words.
You struck a chord with me on this one. U-Tube puts me to sleep each night with the wonderful, melodious quartets and choirs singing the inspiring old hymns that speak to my heart. I respond to music more than anything else this world has to offer, which isn’t much. Keep singing!
Thanks, Evie. You can sing! I remember that well. May music continue to speak to places that need comfort, hope and a healthy dose of joy.