Love’s Alive

Very limited time to write this week but I was feeling inspired in the afternoon I allotted myself today to write and record this song. For spring, for Easter, for love and life . . .

Pick up your questions and put down your weapons 
And don’t be afraid anymore
There’s something to see here if you care to be here
Don’t be afraid anymore

Oh . . . love’s alive

The birds are returning, the babies are learning
Don’t despair today
The cold ice is breaking the warm earth is waking
Don’t despair today

Oh . . love’s alive

Share with your neighbor, welcome the stranger
Believe you have enough
Give yourself mercy, be patient dear person
Believe you are enough

Oh . . . love’s alive

Another Spring

“Sex” is the suggested theme for this current week, 29, of #songaweek2018 (the song I’m working on writing this week). Wouldn’t you know I already hit that theme for week 28! Not that I meant to. I didn’t even mean to use week 28’s actual theme, “anniversary.” But it does seem to all relate.

I started with two lines I had saved as a random idea earlier this year (in the spring, of course). And just let it unfold from there.

A little glossary in case you need it – “hygge” is one of those newly-discovered old ideas that’s been all the rage in recent years, especially in the winter. And “alohomora” is a spell in Harry Potter books that opens things (the “unlocking charm” according to Harry Potter Wiki).

I didn’t want to take the time and effort to film myself recording this week, so I dug up a “strange little newsreel” on publicdomainreview.org. For added entertainment value, go watch it at their site with the original audio intact.

Let’s go at it now with another spring
Pull the earth closer, waken everything
Let the water fall, let the pollen fly
Let the stars get in our eyes

We’ve been keeping our happiness on ice
Frozen fantasies of life
Numbing out with chocolate and wine
Excusing it as hygge, hygge, hygge, who?

Let’s go at it now with another spring
Pull the earth closer, waken everything
Let the water fall, let the pollen fly
Let the stars get in our eyes

Throw the covers off boats and motorcycles
Dodge the dropping icicles
Everything feels magical
Hello, alohomora, more and more and more-a

Let’s go at it now with another spring
Pull the earth closer, waken everything
Let the water fall, let the pollen fly
Let the stars get in our eyes

We’ll dance ourselves dizzy
Under the rising moon
We’ll sing hallelujah,
La la la la la la, la la la la la

Let’s go at it now with another spring
Pull the earth closer, waken everything
Let the water fall, let the pollen fly
Let the stars get in our eyes

 

Perennial

It’s late spring in Minnesota. That’s why this blog has a bit of the echoing sound of summertime school halls right now. I’m outside whenever I can be. I admit that I worship the sun. I finished this poem from a pouty roost at the coffeeshop yesterday while it was raining.

Perennial
by Julia Tindall Bloom 5/25/11

Perennial means forever.
I remember this each spring,
When the bleeding heart comes all quick and tumbling out of the bare ground,
Lines of tiny pink and white clowns
Pouring out of a celery-stem car.
Plants, unlike people, do not age.
I ponder this
As I survey my wrinkling skin,
My gathering cellulite,
As I pull on my first pair of shorts
In this new spring,
And I wonder about resurrection.
It is inarguable that we animals
Rise again as plants.
Is that all?