Bye-bye 2023. It’s been real and life is good and bad and downright ugly, but here we still are. I’m sharing this evening with beloved friends and family, and I’m ready for what’s next (as I’ll ever be).
Love and peace and joy to you! Here’s my family’s holiday video –
Here is my last song for #songaweek2023. This year I slowed my songwriting pace from weekly to monthly, and it has felt right. Next year I will probably continue with this pace.
The first part of this song drew inspiration from some painful news my faith community received last week, that our 15-year-old church’s founding pastor is moving on to a new church call. When you’re part of a good thing that’s become an anchor of peace in your life, it’s hard to lose its leader and wonder what comes next, and if you have the fortitude to keep going now.
This personal grief comes amid the deeper, wider sorrows spreading from two wars in the news and the insistent vague consciousness of suffering all over everywhere and everywhen. It’s December and it’s raining as I write this (a localized pain of global warming here in Minnesota where it should be snowing), and in this northern land we’ve been swiftly plodding towards the longest night. So it feels like the dark is never far.
I couldn’t write a hopeful part for this song, but I turned to a song that Sam Gamgee sang in The Return of the King. So once again, thank you Mr. Tolkien. In the lyrics posted below the video, Tolkien’s words are set in quotation marks, and I am happy to give him the last word in this last song of 2023.
If I go on then why can’t you?
Can I believe the words you said
The songs you sang
The hope you spoke
The better day you thought you saw?
And if I fall then have I failed?
Can I be down and still be true
True to you
The you I knew
When you knew all would come out right?
“In western lands beneath the Sun
the flowers may rise in Spring,
the trees may bud, the waters run,
the merry finches sing.
Or there maybe ’tis cloudless night
and swaying beeches bear
the Elven-stars as jewels white
amid their branching hair.”
The day is dark the night is long
It’s stolen land I’m standing on
From hand to hand
From name to name
We pass it down, we shift the blame
The water’s wide, I can’t cross o’er,
The day is bruised the night so sore
I’ll dig my den
and lay me down,
bear my heart to the wounded ground
“Though here at journey’s end I lie
in darkness buried deep,
beyond all towers strong and high,
beyond all mountains steep,
above all shadows rides the Sun
and Stars for ever dwell:
I will not say the Day is done,
nor bid the Stars farewell.”
November seemed like a good month to finish up this song I’d started writing maybe a couple years ago – since November is the month of one of my kids’ birthdays and also when we think about what we’re thankful for. I sure am thankful for these two people.
You’re my blue sky baby with a heart of gold
Steady sunshine radiating from your soul
Though you do cloud over and it rains on your cheeks
Everybody knows
That’s how everything grows
You’re a fresh breeze breathing through my tired routine
Brighter eyes that see the smile in everything
Though sometimes you close them and get lost in your dreams
Everybody knows
That’s how everything grows
And when you go you know you take the light with you
So shine on shine on shine on
You’re the best thing that I ever did for sure
And you’re so much better and you’re so much more
So go on sweet darlin spread your roots and drink deep
Then when autumn comes release what can’t be kept and sleep
So when spring returns you’ll have the energy you need
Everybody knows
That’s how everything grows
This past summer into early fall I reread The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings trilogy, and I’ve been making music for several of the songs from those books. This one was sung (the words at least) by Legolas in The Return of the King. I’m no elven musician but I enjoyed putting some music to J.R.R. Tolkien’s lyrics.
Last week Nathan and I spent a couple days in Duluth and I took several what I like to call “still videos” of beautiful Lake Superior. I used one of them for this song’s backdrop. Minnesota’s inland sea calls to me, so I try to visit Duluth at least once a year (this last time I decided maybe I should go every season).
To the Sea, to the Sea! The white gulls are crying,
The wind is blowing, and the white foam is flying.
West, west away, the round sun is falling.
Grey ship, grey ship, do you hear them calling,
The voices of my people that have gone before me?
I will leave, I will leave the woods that bore me;
For our days are ending and our years failing.
I will pass the wide waters lonely sailing.
Long are the waves on the Last Shore falling,
Sweet are the voices in the Lost Isle calling,
In Eressëa, in Elvenhome that no man can discover,
Where the leaves fall not: land of my people for ever!
This song came at the right time for me. I needed to relax.
Somewhere in the past week someone called to my mind the story of the burning bush, where God says to Moses, “take off your shoes, you are on holy ground.” And for the first time in my life that idea hit me in a whole different way. Take off your shoes, sit a spell, take it easy. Holy ground is hallowed ground, is sacred space, is an invitation to just be.
Also in the past week I heard someone say, “I’ll give him the piece of my mind!” and the slipup of “the” instead of “a” halfway wrote this song.
Take off your shoes, this is holy ground
You can relax, stay awhile, stick around
I’ll give you the peace of my mind
Let down your guard, I’m just here with you
Nothing to sell, nothing you need to prove
I’ll give you the peace of my mind
Breathe in, breathe out
That’s about the gist of it
Breathe in breathe out
Live
Breathe in, breathe out
That’s about the gist of it
Breathe in breathe out
Live
Julia Bloom 