Posts Tagged ‘music’

The Last Dance

“No matter how close to yours another’s steps have grown, in the end there is one dance you’ll do alone.” -Jackson Browne

My birthday was yesterday, and it was my first one without my father. He would have sent me photographs or a music video, or called me from Spain for the occasion. I missed that, but I wore his scarf to remember the scent of him.

I often think of how he and my mother ushered me into this wild dance of life. He would tell me the story laughingly, of how he drove my mother to the hospital and they helped her onto a stretcher, and left him in the waiting room. She was so ready, that before they could wheel her down the hall into a room, I was suddenly born. The doctor turned the stretcher around, called for my father and showed him my fat little body squirming and crying. I was 11 pounds and 2 ounces they tell me! I have always tried not to hurt anyone and I suppose on that single occasion, I succeeded. Her labor was over just like that. I was so fat, my father said, that my forehead was folded and almost covering my eyes. I had arrived in my usual style, clumsy and overly dramatic.

When I think of my father, it saddens me that I was not there to take his hand and usher him out of this world as he had ushered me in. I didn’t know it was his time while I was dreaming about Christmas with him in Spain. He departed just after Easter on my son’s birthday.

My mother and I still talk of him. She says he was quite a dancer. I believe that he was and I like to imagine it. I can see them scooting across a wooden floor in our living room, she in a lilac dress with a thick corn silk braid flowing to her waist, and soft flat lavender shoes. He is wearing a light saffron shirt with rolled up sleeves and a hickory vest, black pants and tai chi shoes. Her swan-like arms lay across his amber elbows; one hand rests on his shoulder and strokes his espresso hair. She is soft as bread and he is spicy like cinnamon. Their eyes of blue and brown dance together like water and wood.

But the curtain begins to close, the music is fading and I can’t quite hear the song. I  barely hear soft shoes and gentle high and deep voices on the dance floor. They will always dance together within the red satin lining of my music box heart.

 

 

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I’ve always thought of Bob Dylan as a prophetic voice for our times. I listened to this song today for the first time in years, and the words rang so true about the dead oceans and sad forests, and guns and swords in the hands of young children.

Listen to him sing “It’s a Hard Rain Gonna Fall”:

My favorite lines in the song are:

I saw a newborn baby with wild wolves all around it
I saw a highway of diamonds with nobody on it
I saw a black branch with blood that kept drippin’
I saw a room full of men with their hammers a-bleedin’

Here are the complete lyrics:

http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/bobdylan/ahardrainsagonnafall.html

Pray for me that I may walk softly on that “highway of diamonds.”

Shalom,

“Sister Olive”

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This is a beautiful song written by an old friend of mine named Tim, and I loved it from the first time I heard him sing it at a Christian coffeehouse in Oregon, accompanied by his faithful guitar. He started out by saying “This song is based on the last words of Jesus to His disciples…”  After that, I used to request it again whenever he came, and I learned to sing and play it on my own.  I have played and sung it in quite a few churches since that day:

~♥~

Won’t you tell me, please,

Do you love me more than these,

More than the wealth of things that you possess?

Don’t you realize

You’ve got to open up your eyes?

Listen now, to my last request.

 

(Chorus)

If you love me, feed my sheep,

If you care, feed my lambs,

If you’re my friends,

Take care of my little ones.

 

For their angels are constantly before my father.

Suffer little children to come unto me.

For if you give a cup of water only in my name,

A reward will come unto thee.

(Repeat Chorus)

 

If anyone should cause the least of my disciples

To stumble and to turn his back on me,

It would be better to have a millstone tied around his neck,

And to be cast into the deepest sea.

(Repeat Chorus)

 

So, if you still think that things are so important,

Then you’re blind, just as blind as you can be.

For if you still think that things are so important,

Tell me, where will you spend eternity?

~♥~

By Tim Peters

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