Quill #124 - Two Haiku (4/9/2013)

Frogs croak in chorus
Livening the pond's night life,
Old men singing loud.

Thorn plucked from paw,
Mighty lion brought low -
Abcess tooth removed.

Quill #121 - Spring Vocal Concert at UNL

I can't say I was disappointed. The performances excelled. But, this was a quiet pleasure, not the rousing joy of the holiday festivities. Chamber music is beautiful in small doses. An entire roster of spiritual bliss put my darling spouse to sleep, quite literally.

At one point, the stage was filled to brimming with singers, but the sound only reached half hall. There were two soloists who did nothing else but their solos. They were both very good and will probably have opera careers ahead of them. The male had excellent vocal control. He could fill the house with sound better than the entire chorus. I only heard, maybe, two notes which might have been more loud than controlled.

The female soloist looked like she didn't want to be there. She smiled when applauded, but sat stoic and bored the rest of the concert. The fellow at least had the grace to follow along with his music. She sat like a beautiful statue until it was her time to sing. And then, you knew why she'd been chosen. She could sing so softly that you weren't quite certain she was still singing, but perfectly.

Not a rousing performance. Not one where you walk out feeling buoyed by the spirit. But, an excellent piece of work, nonetheless. I would like to hear the volume that such a choir could produce. If the highs were higher and the lows lower, there might be more interest in a requiem.

We were proud of our daughter's participation in the entire concert and felt fortunate that she didn't faint from the heat, as she did a few concerts ago.

Quill #118 - Tradition (1980)

I remember those big family reunions at Grandma's house when everyone stayed overnight.
I would wake up to the familiar chatter of women's voices and the smell of bacon frying on the stove.
Still sleepy, I would go out to the kitchen where their love would surround and claim me.
I was one of the eldest children and it made me feel grown-up when they accepted me.

The men were almost always in the garage, tinkering, showing off, laughing and talking in those deep, resonant voices.
Sometimes they played football in the backyard, all the men and all the boys, except Grandpa and my dad.
Grandpa was too old, and Dad said he didn't care much for football, so the two of them would sit and talk and watch the game until the ladies called the men in to supper.

In the evenings they all played cards.
Sometimes I got to play, but usually the children played their own games, occasionally complaining about the unfairness of being children.
On special occasions, we would all go into the back room, and Grandma would play her ancient piano.
The keys weren't all quite tuned, but their odd tinkling sound only made the old songs seem even older.

Eventually we would trickle away, back to our own homes, just as the time trickled away much more quickly than anyone thought it would.
Grandma's house is gone now, but in my heart it is still there, comforting, and sometimes, when I wake up in the morning, I can still hear her working.
And I know that when I dreamed I was there once again.

(These pictures are not the ones I wanted and may be replaced when I find the right ones.)

Quill #111 - Cocoa & Carols

Our daughter was a performer in her university's choral recital this year, a family yuletide holiday festival. This recital was, without a doubt, the most uplifting and enjoyable holiday sing-fest I've ever attended. She was only a small part of the activities, but the performances were so strong that I would gladly have given four standing ovations rather than the one permitted at the end of the concert.

Both my children are vocalists and I've been to a lot of concerts, some where my extremely talented kids were featured, a few where my son was almost the lead vocalist in the entire performance. Therefore, do not take it lightly when I say that this show was amazing. If you get a chance to attend a University of Nebraska performance this year, please do.

Quill #94 - Upon the Marriage of Our Son and the Gaining of a Daughter (2006)

As a babe, your eyes were lined with care.
At two, you knew more than a child should bear.
Your voice, throughout the years, has grown more strong,
Deep enough to share another's song.

We enjoy the addition of a heart.
A daughter more will be a blessed start,
To what we hope will be a happy life
With young ones, pets, a warm and loving wife.

Just don't forget that you are still our son,
And more than that, were sibling number one.
No pow'r on earth can take us from your side.
We stand by you, your children, and your bride.

If future trials make your song feel weak,
To carry on as needed, do not seek
A path that takes you ever far from home.
For solace, there is no need to roam.

What we can, we will do; it's our role.
May your songs, joined together, make you whole.

Quill #92 - Autumn Nights (1983)

I sing a new song,
A song of joy,
And love that soars the skies.
Springtime passion,
The days of summer,
Turning to Autumn nights.
We sing an old song,
A song of content,
And moonlight reflecting on snow.
Winter romance,
Dancing the slow ones,
Watching the children grow.
I sing a new song;
We sing an old song,
Both songs singing of life.
Our love's the same love,
Changed in but one way,
Built by the sharing of strife.

Quill #31 - Whippoorwill Memory (2009)

There was a whippoorwill outside our house when I was growing up. Her slow mournful call was the subject of many breakfast conversations with my father. When I moved away, I didn't miss the bird the way I'd worry over a lost tooth that would be probed again and again. Instead, her absence affected me as if a quality to the air was lacking, or like a piece of music remembered only in dreams. Every time I heard another I was transported for a few rare moments to a small frame house in Kansas. a space at the table my father built, two eggs fried in butter, and a warm spring day waiting for me.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sukE9pGayRc&feature=related

Quill #27 - Mountain Song (1991)

Oh, the name of the God is 'I am,'
And the name of the Goddess, too.
When you speak to Them, say, "I am,"
If you want Them to know you.

What is on top of the mountain,
Waiting there to see?
How should I climb the mountain?
Wise One, please tell me.

O' my daughter, this is your journey,
No one else can teach you the way.
You must climb till reaching the summit,
But remember what you must say...

Oh, the name of the God is 'I am,'
And the name of the Goddess, too.
When you speak to Them, say, "I am,"
If you want Them to know you.

What is on top of the mountain,
Waiting here to see?
How did you climb the mountain?
Daughter, please tell me.

O' my mother, this was my journey,
No one else could climb the same way.
My path went higher than the summit,
And I was One with the Gods today.

Oh, the name of the God is 'I am,'
And the name of the Goddess, too.
When you speak to Them, say, "I am,"
If you want Them to know you.

Quill #26 - The Mountain (1989)

"What is on top of the mountain?" Blue Feather asked her mother.
"Which mountain?" Great Owl queried.
"The peak you climbed last year when you weren't feeling very well."
"Oh, that mountain."
"Yes, that mountain," answered the youth.
"No one can describe that mountain," replied her mother.

"What is on top of the mountain?" Blue Feather asked her father.
"Which mountain?" Handsome Elk queried.
"The mountain you and our uncles circle for hunt."
"I do not know," responded her father. "I have never climbed up that far."

"What is on top of the mountain?" Blue Feather asked her grandfather.
"What mountain?" queried Sleeping Buffalo.
"The mountain over there!" cried his granddaughter as she pointed in the direction of the summit.
Grandfather put on his glasses and stared at the place she indicated.
"I don't see any mountain," he grumbled. "Play somewhere else now."

"What is on top of the mountain?" Blue Feather asked her grandmother.
"Why don't you climb it and see?" suggested Medicine Woman.

"I'm going to the top of the mountain," Blue Feather said to her mother. "Which is the best path to use?"
Great Owl set down her basket of seeds and began gathering some herbs.
"I will make a special tea for you," she stated. "Once you have drunk the tea, you will be able to climb any path you choose."

"I'm going to the top of the mountain," Blue Feather said to her father. "Which path is the most beautiful?"
Handsome Elk stopped dancing and opened his medicine pouch.
"I will consult the contents of my pouch," he declared. "They will tell me which path you should follow."

"I'm going to the top of the mountain," Blue Feather said to her grandfather. "What is the best way to climb a high peak?"
"Why would you want to do such a silly thing? replied Sleeping Buffalo, laying down his pipe to speak. "There is too much work to do here." He waggled a finger at her.

"I'm going to the top of the mountain," Blue Feather said to her grandmother. "What should I take with me?"
Medicine Woman shook her rattle at her granddaughter.
"Just go!" she urged the youth. "Take nothing."

Blue Feather stood at the top of the mountain.
She breathed cold air.
She smelled pine scent from twisted, hunched trees.
She felt the brisk wind blow feathers into her hair.
She saw eagles hover in strong currents.
She heard a snake's rattle and the chanting of storm clouds.

When she turned around to look at the village, Blue Feather saw her grandmother's spirit flying up to meet her.

"Well, Blue Feather," asked Medicine Woman's spirit, once she had arrived at the crest. "What is on top of the mountain?"
Her granddaughter thought for just a moment, then gave her answer.

"I am."