Posted by: Artsy Squibbles | September 2, 2006

The word of an instrument. Hail to the Wind!

I have been under the spell for many years now, having resubmitted my deep affection for one of the most beautiful instruments in this world…the bagpipes. I may not know all the components, parts and pieces that make this musical instrument as provoking as it is but if you want to stir the soul out of a melancholy slumber this is the one that will get you up and about your life. A celebration cries from the winds it emits with its fits of grand posturings to other lung hearty instruments that are by far gentler on the ears. But the cry and incantations heard are reminiscent of a time that is no longer available in plenty.

It is not the war cry I hear, but the love song of the ocean in the midst of a storm. It is the mother keening for her warrior sons that have returned without breath. It is the voice of a man in his prime saying I am alive. It is the love song a grandmother would croon in a lullabye to unruly pranksters.
I was encouraged to write this post having run across another blog that mentioned “Black Island” in a poem as a dirge…a farewell in so many words. Which I did not know until this evening. And yet I had written my own words to go with the melody, as an expression of caring and trust that tomorrow brings us closer.

This is all that I had written, so now I am off to finish this into a full song and add some of my poetry that seems to run in a parallel thought.

(Chorus)

When you look to the sky,

 

stop to think of the moon,(throw a kiss to the moon)

 

and know that my love is within every tune…

 

when you look to the breeze,

 

you will feel the touch of my hand,

 

and when you dance with bare feet…

 

I will be as the sand…

 

when you bathe in the sea…

 

know that you are with me.

 

 

Perhaps when I am done I will search out the real lyrics to “Black Island” and compare notes.

**An added note here…”Dark Island” is the actual title.

As a lyric writer it is so much easier to have a tune already at my finger tips. The canvas is primed and ready, the pallette is loaded with a miriad of colors…all I have to do is choose the brush, and how to apply the color. The voice being the final touch of as the perfectly matched frame. Now if I could just make money doing this.

Between sculpture and writing you’d think I could make a living, wouldn’t ya?

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