November 8: Wind and sorrow
Kristen Lindquist
For the third time in a year I attended a memorial service for a someone I knew and admired--all three vital men taken in their prime, each a role model for the way one should live a life--energetic, joyful, generous forces within this community. At today's service, folk musician Gordon Bok and his wife, harpist Carol Rohl, performed Gordon's song, "Isle au Haut Lullaby," some particular phrases of which really resonated for me:
Give sadness to the stars
And sorrow to the seas...
Sleep now, the moon is high,
And the wind blows cold;
For you are sad and young
And the sea is old.
Bleak but oddly comforting images as the wind roars outside, whipping branches in the near-dark, and not far away, the cold waters of Penobscot Bay stretch to the horizon with their burden of islands, an ocean deep enough to swallow any grief.
The widow said she felt like
last night's storm was carrying
her husband away from her.
Give sadness to the stars
And sorrow to the seas...
Sleep now, the moon is high,
And the wind blows cold;
For you are sad and young
And the sea is old.
Bleak but oddly comforting images as the wind roars outside, whipping branches in the near-dark, and not far away, the cold waters of Penobscot Bay stretch to the horizon with their burden of islands, an ocean deep enough to swallow any grief.
The widow said she felt like
last night's storm was carrying
her husband away from her.