Chime
Song
Just outside the door of my studio, there are some unpainted metal
wind chimes -- 5 bars of unpolished steel, the longest of which is 20
inches, the shortest of which is 12. Their music is beautiful. i have
noticed that there are times when , though everything seems still, the
chimes 'sing.' Apparently, there are breezes, ever so slight, which the
wind plate feels and answers with music.
 This
is a song about thankfulness. It is my own prayer for a more grateful
heart. The secret, it seems, is a light, tender heart which, like the
diaphragm of the wind chimes, can be moved at the slightest provocation.
Gratitude for the 'smallest' blessing (as if any blessing were small),
will make my song of thanks constant, even when the world around me is
quiet or, worse, complaining and critical. To be thankful only for 'big'
things is to cultivate a breed of joy which will be infrequent and unexercised.
Someone has wisely pointed out that "he is most joyful in life who is
thankful for least." i pray that it might be so for all of us.
"In all things give thanks, for this is the will of God in Christ
Jesus concerning you."
Again, thanks to Emily Gibson for her performance on the flute.
i must also add that my Dad, pictured here at the studio with me,
helped me record the chimes. He reminds me often that it is the artistic
highlight of the CD.
They were made by my grandfather Abraham
when he lived in Alabama by the shore
and though he's long been gone, still his music carries on
in the wind chimes just outside my door
bars of steel, bits of wire, a silver throated choir
a quintet that is eager to perform
they sing from morning 'til midnight, in the stillness or the stir,
shouting ever joyful through the storm
good morning golden sun, good morning silver song
this world could surely use the music that you bring
take our heavy hearts, they are slow to move
teach us how to sing
though i see no sign of motion in the treetops or the clouds
the chimes will break the silence soft and clear
it seems each breeze is like a tickle, every tickle makes them laugh
it's the language of the thankful that i hear
so let me like a candle flame
let me like a feather dance
at baby's breath or hurricane
let me sing at every chance
(i am waiting for the wind to blow)
good morning golden sun, good morning silver song
this world could surely use the music that you bring
take our heavy hearts, they are slow to move
teach us how to sing
take my heavy heart, it's been slow to move,
teach me how to sing …
|
