Growing pains

I remind myself – often I feel a sense of failure and despondency just before a time in my life when I embark upon something novel and transformative. It is almost as if the pain comes with shirking off the status quo. And all the stored-up complaints and deficiencies march out to air their cases and to rally against their obsolescence.

Sharing authorship with Emily D.

I wrote this song several years ago using a prompt that said, take a poem and set it to music.

Actually, that’s not correct. (After searching in vain for a Dickinson poem that starts thus.)

Now I remember! The prompt was to write a poem in the style of a poet. I wrote this ala Dickinson, then put it to music (which you can link to here).

The Child that hears the Buzz

The Child that hears the Buzz
of bees whose Spirits merge
with sweet Honey/ attunes our ears to Spring

He boldly finds the lowly
worm the Robin in
Her rush may spurn/ upset by Winter’s fling

The daylight spent like
Licorice on tongues
aglow with innocence/ the Night a curtain falls

Unfurling Grace whose hidden
Rooms and servants guard
Against dour Gloom/ until kind Dawn shall call

How time plays with our perception of origins. I had forgotten my part in the poem’s inception! I suppose it is a valid gift, so, Happy Birthday Emily!