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Sing, for you have wings
Be like the bird that,
passing on her flight awhile on boughs too slight,
feels them give way beneath her,
and yet sings,
knowing that she hath wings.
~ Victor Hugo
What causes you to sing,
even when the bough beneath you feels like it is giving way?
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I don’t have wings, but the one holding my hands does.
This is what I sing. Well, either that or “All Shall Be Well,” or maybe a Psalm or two!
My life flows on in endless song;
Above earth’s lamentation
I hear the sweet though far off hymn
That hails a new creation:
No storm can shake my inost calm
while to that Rock I’m clinging.
Since God is Lord of heav’n and earth,
how can I keep from singing?
written by Robert Lowry
Uh, that’s “inmost.”
Pray that I can learn to type, spell AND preview my work!
what make me sing is the day that god has given me, in the past week or so i’ve been waking up 10 minutes earlier and thanking god that i woke up and have another day to live. also how he is always around me and helping me in ways that i didn’t see him in before.
I sing in spanish because thats my mother tonge, and this lyric from a Sister Glenda’s song says clearly what makes me sing. If you don’t understand spanish you can read Psalm 101 and its pretty much the same…
Para Tí toda mi música Señor
LA MUSICA SE PARECE A TI SEÑOR
NO SE VE PERO LLEGA A LO MAS PROFUNDO
PARA TI, PARA TI, PARA TI TODA MI MUSICA SEÑOR
PARA TI, TODA MI MUSICA
PARA TI TODA MI MUSICA
PARA TI, PARA TI, PARA TI TODA MI MUSICA SEÑOR
PARA TI, TODA MI MUSICA
PARA TI, TODA MI MUSICA
QUIERO CANTAR CON LA DULZURA
DE LA BONDAD Y LA JUSTICIA
QUIERO TENER CONCIENCIA RECTA DENTRO DE MI
QUIERO FIJARME EN LO QUE ES DIGNO
QUIERO MIRAR CON OJOS LIMPIOS
PARA TI, PARA TI, PARA TI TODA MI MUSICA SEÑOR
PARA TI, TODA MI MUSICA
PARA TI, TODA MI MUSICA
PARA TI, PARA TI, PARA TI TODA MI MUSICA SEÑOR
SOLO PARA TI, SOLO DE TI
SOLO POR TI SEÑOR
QUIERO CANTAR CON LA HUMILDAD
CON LA BELLEZA Y LA VERDAD
QUIERO DAR VIDA CON MI CANTO
A LOS DEMAS
QUIERO HABLAR AL CORAZON
CONSOLAR CON MI VOZ
PARA TI, PARA TI, PARA TI TODA MI MUSICA SEÑOR
PARA TI TODA MI MUSICA
PARA TI TODA MI MUSICA
PARA TI, PARA TI, PARA TI TODA MI MUSICA SEÑOR
SOLO DE TI, SOLO PARA TI
SOLO POR TI SEÑOR
PARA TI, PARA TI, PARA TI TODA MI MUSICA SEÑOR
PARA TI TODA MI MUSICA
PARA TI TODA MI MUSICA
“How can I keep from singing?” is a favorite.
Most of my toughest times were faced long before we met (child’s death, divorce, Mom’s first cancer), but my husband definitely keeps me going. I’m sure that’s why God fixed us up.
The group I sing with at church is another source of strength, and there’s a prayer list at work that it seems I’m constantly asking to pray for this friend or that family member. What a huge blessing to have such a “prayer army” at my disposal!
Memories and pictures of my “best dog”, my fourteen year old blue heeler – who died alomost two years ago – in his life jacket in our kayak; “gazing at me with love”; marching around town off leash carrying his “job” (a red rubber toy that I kept replacing over the course of his life); our seven-year morning routine of our coffee shop, that good boy dashing into behind the counter to get his cookie and then dashing back outside to wait for me (and engage every passerby in a game of tug-of-war over his job); and absolutely disgusting though it is, his utter and focused joy when he came across some drunk college kid’s puke (college towns: dog heaven).
He teaches me poverty of spirit: a good life can be pretty basic. Very basic.
And poetry, always poetry. Two favorites (and anything by Dorianne Laux):
Singapore by Mary Oliver in “House of Light”
In Singapore, in the airport,
A darkness was ripped from my eyes.
In the women’s restroom, one compartment stood open.
A woman knelt there, washing something
in the white bowl.
Disgust argued in my stomach
and I felt, in my pocket, for my ticket.
A poem should always have birds in it.
Kingfishers, say, with their bold eyes and gaudy wings.
Rivers are pleasant, and of course trees.
A waterfall, or if that’s not possible, a fountain
rising and falling.
A person wants to stand in a happy place, in a poem.
When the woman turned I could not answer her face.
Her beauty and her embarrassment struggled together, and
neither could win.
She smiled and I smiled. What kind of nonsense is this?
Everybody needs a job.
Yes, a person wants to stand in a happy place, in a poem.
But first we must watch her as she stares down at her labor,
which is dull enough.
She is washing the tops of the airport ashtrays, as big as
hubcaps, with a blue rag.
Her small hands turn the metal, scrubbing and rinsing.
She does not work slowly, nor quickly, like a river.
Her dark hair is like the wing of a bird.
I don’t doubt for a moment that she loves her life.
And I want to rise up from the crust and the slop
and fly down to the river.
This probably won’t happen.
But maybe it will.
If the world were only pain and logic, who would want it?
Of course, it isn’t.
Neither do I mean anything miraculous, but only
the light that can shine out of a life. I mean
the way she unfolded and refolded the blue cloth,
The way her smile was only for my sake; I mean
the way this poem is filled with trees, and birds.
***************************
And “Bugs in a Bowl,” by David Budbill, from Moment to Moment: Poems of a Mountain Recluse (Copper Canyon Press).
Han Shan, that great and crazy, wonder-filled Chinese poet of a thousand years ago, said:
We’re just like bugs in a bowl. All day going around never leaving their bowl.
I say, That’s right! Every day climbing up
the steep sides, sliding back.
Over and over again. Around and around.
Up and back down.
Sit in the bottom of the bowl, head in your hands,
cry, moan, feel sorry for yourself.
Or. Look around. See your fellow bugs.
Walk around.
Say, Hey, how you doin’?
Say, Nice Bowl!
I’m not a singer but I can play the harp and my daily hour spent playing the harp with God as my audience is what sustains me through difficult days. It’s also a great way to celebrate life’s joys.
Many harpy returns!
What makes me sing changes,today it’s the fact that tomorrow I’m getting this cast off my left arm,and finding out what the plan is to get the R arm moving if doc gives ok! Yes!! I’m not such a good singer,but I’ll be singing anyway,and looks like in the rain too!
The music that gives me the greatest amount of peace and/or joy varies. Listening to some renditions of chant, especially that of Hildegard of Bingen, enables me to connect better with the love of the transcendant God. This music seems to almost deliver me from this sometimes mundane planet to a more celestial, spiritual realm. I sometimes use it as a type of meditation. Both the words and music of the song “Day by Day” from Godspell bring me a sense of unabashed joy and happiness. I don’t know exactly why. But the harmony and increasing instrumental involvement is so uplifting. The lyrics, simple as they are, seem to say it all. Some hymns I like are “You are the Center of my Life”, “Lord of the Dance” and “All Creatures of our God and King”. I can’t really sing along with most of the chant, but I can with the others.
Oh, I am a dog-lover too. Petting, hugging and kissing (yes, kissing) my dog when I am in need of a jolt of joy works well. Dogs are so sweet, cute, uncomplicated, soft and cuddly and full of unconditional love. And they are just about always happy to see you. They can help me forget the heaviness in life. Also, I sense that they are a sort of bridge, or a connecting energy, that brings me closer to the earth, the wild, the mystery, the cosmos … God. Kinda weird I know. But it appears to be a kind of unitive thing.
dee
My favorite? “His Eye is on the Sparrow”~
I sing because I’m happy
I sing because I’m free
For His eye is on the sparrow
And I know He watches me
And experiences like today. We closed with “How great thou art”. We had decided at practice earlier this week to do the 3rd verse a cappella because we had the SATB balance to do it. (Another of God’s great gifts – getting to sing with wonderful musicians and their equally talented children!) This morning, both reviewing the music before mass and then singing it at the end, I had tears of joy running down my face during the refrain. How great Thou art indeed!