Spring. The Trials of the morning glory vine as it cotends with both the forest and the farmer. Inspired by Amy Beach
lyrics
I need a place to call my own and I found one hear in these pine cones but I cannot make a proper start, afraid I lack the strength of heart. And though I found firm ground sprout roots and leaves, I find myself in the midst of trees. Still I squirm and turn and strain to see the sunlight that's such a mystery to me.
This kind of digging calls for spite and so much spittle. How can you, you who claim to be calm and so gentle, pick me apart with your trowel and your rake and force me new form with a screw and a stake? I'll admit I was hungry for a safe harbor, admit that I sought out a fence and a farmer, was ready and willing to be rearranged. But I don't know if I like things this way.
This kind of weeding calls for so much rag. How can you, you who know me my weakness and ways. Take me and make me a place for your blame, and keep me so small in a fence and a shade. Though along I would falter, would fall in the field, intertwined I will not take these ordeals. I wriggle, I worm my way upward and high, but I only find you and no sign of sky.
So I tried to grow in strong straight lines. Just like you and those sturdy pines. But I'll be a clinging vine, I twist and bend, begin again. I tried to climb, I crawl I creep. But I think that we're rooted deep and I hate this shade but I need that strength, like I need your love though it's keeping me so weak.
credits
from February / The Forest and The Farmer,
released December 9, 2013
Liz Ciavolino, harp + vocal
Dane Galloway, guitar + piano
Will Wright, Bass
Eric Huefner, Drums
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