of mothers giving birth
and the blind ache fathers feel
when a baby cries
or a whistle
blows
.
My voice will rise
from mounds of trash
and common stone
from trees and fields
and empty rooms
.
Even the birds will approve
.
I Will Go On Singing
July 24, 2011
[click to enlarge]
8 comments:
I'm a singer, by nature, but, some days, it's not so easy to sing. (oh, that was a lot of commas)
I once thought of counting commas in my Portable Hawthorne, but I decided against it.
I think we’re all singers by nature, and that the less we sing, the harder singing becomes. Imagine a bird wilting on a wire.
William, he looks so happy singing again!!! I love to sing! I sang to all my babies while I rocked them to sleep. I even sang to my sisters when they were small. The fact that you've never heard of me before my blog, kind of says that I wasn't very good at it :)
Love your drawing and poem today...as usual. But today they made me smile. Maybe I'll sing later ;)
To me it sounds like you’ve already begun. And those lullabies you sang, whether your kids realize it or not, will last them a lifetime.
i'm so glad.
fathers...
"the blind ache fathers feel
when a baby cries
or a whistle
blows"
how perfectly aching.
i remember when i was a young mother and how i felt a certain pitch of child, as though all children were my children and i was but their ward.
xo
erin
I am picking up the guitar again. My arms and fingers remember it like the weight and shape of my babies. And I think to myself, if I could write a lyric and a tune, have them flow from my lips and digits, I could exorcise things.
I liked that a lot, William.
That, Erin, is it exactly. Among other things, I suppose. Such as rocking in a boat, or combing a wheat field of hair.
No ifs about it, Annie — a lyric and a tune are something you can do. The rest is inevitable.
Great to hear, Peter. Thank you.
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