Pastel Shades of Blue

ballet dancer

Pastel shades of blue
painted on the panorama ‘fore my eyes
Oh, Magenta, red, and aqua rainbows
fill the sky just like some rhyme –

Am I dreaming songs of love?
Am I always wondering why?
Is it truth or is it passion
that fills my heart and overflows my mind?

Open now and hope forever,
My heart is on the line:
a deeper shade of color,
and this dancer spinning to some unknown time –

I can be this heart within
and I do answer for my own time
as the poet lives within these wings
and this dancer with the mystery unwinds–

My Voice

man-1845432_1280

Oh, this trembling uncertainty,
wanting a place
to voice my feelings
in this chaotic seeming world.

I follow my heart.
I follow my dream,
as the gibbon moon crosses
high in the sky –
I dream of beauty and love.

A voice out of somewhere asks:
What have you to give songsmith?

I reply that
I am finding my voice
and bringing you my harmonies
and rhythms
in this disharmony,
I Am

Touch My Heart With a Song

young-girl-with-accordian

It was a dark night. I was feeling detached and tired as I listened again to my still small voice within; it said,” Go in and sing with her”. I picked up my guitar and songbook, and went in and asked her if we could sing together. Her answer was an affirmative “yes”, though I knew she was shy and embarrassed about her own singing voice because in growing up her family had poked fun at her singing voice.

Nonetheless, I started with a rendition of “When the Saints Go Marching In”. She had shared that that song was the last song in a funeral orchestration that her best friend had put together for her own last rites. That song was heartily sung by everyone in the service, sending her friend rousingly into eternity. I was moved by that story recounted to me by her and her other friend when they returned from the service.

After that song I followed it with a song I had written specifically for Nancy called “Nancy’s Song”. She loved it and I sang a few more songs out of my songbook with her. All her agitation and moodiness (she has dementia) melted like butter with the music. After a few songs she began to talk about experiences with her family growing up, and I recounted experiences with my family, growing up in Detroit. It was heart to heart conversation. It was truly breakthrough in relationship at least for the moment.

This story and experience illustrates what music is to me. First it is a tool I use to free myself from my logical, left brain. Music can often free us emotionally and from stress. I believe that music is both an avenue from and to divine spirit or consciousness. I don’t limit this to one particular religion. Lastly, I believe music connects us to our own deeper self, to each other, and to Source or to God. This is what music is to me.

This is what I love, my passion. What is your passion?

Evening Song

 

sunset-tableOh the evening sun, it touches down,
coloring all, see day is blest.
Oh, the co-lors flow,
they give my heart this rest –

Chorus:

Oh, these feelings come and go
as the breeze, it whispers low,
and the song it sings
is the song inside my heart.
Oh, the song it sings
is the melody in my soul –

Restless day of needs all done.
Another day, I journey on.
Stop to rest, eve-ning’s song
blends with colors into One –

The colors blending, touch my soul,
painting eve-ning’s feelings whole.
Enchantment of the night
harmony of soul.

“It is one of the tragedies of modern culture that we have
lost touch with these primal thresholds of nature.” –
Anam Cara – A Book of Celtic Wisdom, John O’Donohue

Art, How I See It

This is a heartful, beautiful, and profound statement about art in the broadest, most courageous sense.

Artsy Teen

Hi, everyone! My name’s Elm, and I blog over at Just Call me Elm or Something. I’m collaborating with the lovely Maya, which honestly makes my day!

Before anything, I want to tell you what I can see – or rather, what I can’t see. Far be it for me to define myself by this, but I’m blind. I can see nothing out of my right eye, and only light, contrasts and a few shapes out of my left. I couldn’t see faces, beautiful landscapes or anything of the sort. I despise getting pity for it; I’ve always been blind and have never seen anything different from what I do now, and so I view it as normal. To set the scene, I needed to tell you, so that you understand.

Because of my lack of vision, it may be surprising to you that art is actually quite important…

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