Tag: creative-writing

Of Porcupine and Friends

November 3, 2024

Friends.

I have journaled much about the role of friends, especially as it involves those “old old” friends that disappoint to the core. I am learning that the sting of disappointment is like being stuck with porcupine quills.

The barbed tip hurts, and removing by yanking on the quill is painful. However, like everything else in life, you begin to evaluate how to ease the pain of extrication. If I had only known when Milly got these quills what I do now, she would not have suffered so much. Tip: you first have to cut them in half so that they go limp, the fish-hook tip relaxes, and you can pull them out softly and with reduced pain because the quills become flaccid and pliable!

I am spending much time with good friends. Some I have known for a few months. Others, for a couple of decades. And some, for a few weeks. I value their support, compassion, and their reaching out when you least expect it. Most of all, I cherish the laughter we share together. A hearty good laugh is a balm for the soul.

Recently, I heard from friends from my youth. They brought back a torrent of emotions, for they helped me remember some of the “good old days” of yore, when we were studying and working and carefree. How lucky can one be?

I am blessed.

The Arrow And The Song

Long, long afterward, in an oak
I found the arrow, still unbroke;
And the song, from beginning to end,
I found again in the heart of a friend.

— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The Metaphor of The Snow

September 24, 2024

Lately, I seem to run into serendipity every time I turn a corner, or so it seems.  Pure chance?  I don’t know.  I have my suspicions.  Sometimes, I do think I am being gently guided to discover and understand and be in awe of what was, what is, and what may be.  

Such is the case with a beautiful song I have been practicing, in a new venture of mine, singing with an amazing group of professional choristers.

The song is called The Snow, based on a poem written by Lady Caroline Alice Elgar.  Her husband, Sir Edward Elgar (he of Pomp and Circumstance fame) wrote the music.  

What struck me was the melody and the poignancy of the lyrics.  

In essence, it is a meditation:  why the soul in its purest form ought to be as white as snow.  But life happens, and one’s heart should strive to be strong in the face of adversity, bleakness and dejection.

For under a blanket of snow, lies the sadness of the wilting flora.  Eventually, though, the snow melts and is no longer pure and white.  It fades away.  It is fleeting.  Here today and gone tomorrow.  But the cadence of nature continues, and the soul should propagate clarity, integrity and faith in sombre and stinging times.  

And when inevitably we lose our luster and fade away, like the melting snow, we should “endure through all the years full sure “:  that is, cling as best we can to our core values, nurturing our principles, staying true to ourselves, and never giving up regardless of fate.

Below is a beautiful rendition by the University of Manchester Chorus.

THE SNOW
by Caroline Alice Elgar

O snow, which sinks so light,
Brown earth is hid from sight
O soul, be thou as white as snow,
O snow, which falls so slow,
Dear earth quite warm below;
O heart, so keep thy glow
Beneath the snow.

O snow, in thy soft grave
Sad flow'rs the winter brave;
O heart, so sooth and save, as does the snow.
The snow must melt, must go,
Fast, fast as water flow.
Not thus, my soul, O sow
Thy gifts to fade like snow.

O snow, thou'rt white no more,
Thy sparkling too, is o'er;
O soul, be as before,
Was bright the snow.
Then as the snow all pure,
O heart be, but endure;
Through all the years full sure,
Not as the snow.