Category: Church Year

In my Music Notebook...

6/7/2022

Pentecost Fare:

The Tree Song

I saw a tree by the riverside one day as I walked along,
Straight as an arrow,
And pointing to the sky, growing tall and strong.
How do you grow so tall and strong?"
I said to the riverside tree.
This is the song my tree friend sang to me.

I have roots growing down to the water.
I have leaves reaching up to the sunshine.
And, the fruit that I bear is the sign of the life in me.
I am shade from the hot summer sundown.
I am nests for the birds of the heaven.
I'm becoming what the maker of trees
Has meant me to be: a strong, young, tree.

I saw a tree in the wintertime, when show lay on the ground.
Straight as an arrow and pointing to the
Sky and the winter winds blew all around.
" How do you grow so straight and tall?"
I said to my wintertime tree.
This is the song that my tree friend sang to me:

I've got roots growing down to the water.
I've got leaves growing up to the sunshine.
And, the fruit that I bear is a sign of the life in me.
I am shade from the hot summer sundown.
I am nests for the birds of the heavens.
I'm becoming what the maker of trees
Has meant me to be: a strong young tree."

I saw a tree in the city streets where buildings blocked the sun.
Green and lovely, I could see it gave joy to everyone.
How do you grow in the city streets?"
I said to my downtown tree.
This is the song that my tree friend sang to me:

I've got roots growing down to the water.
I've got leaves growing up to the sunshine.
And, the fruit that I bear is a sign of the life in me.
I am shade from the hot summer sundown.
I am nests for the birds of the heavens.
I'm becoming what The Maker of Trees
Has meant me to be: a strong, young, tree."

Written by Ken Medema arranged by Robert Sterling

Pairs so nicely with....

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In my Nature Notebook...

2/2/2022

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"Groundhog Day," Andrew Wyeth

Groundhog Day

"...Early tribesmen credited various animals with the ability to forecast weather. The Egyptians relied on bears. Early Europeans turned to wolves for prophecies. In England they put their faith in otters and badgers. Early English colonists in America, never skilled in identification, mistook woodchucks for badgers, which often were called groundhogs in England. The badger was the Candlemas forecaster in England, so the American marmot inherited the prophet's mantle. And just to round out the tangle of identities, the name 'woodchuck' came from the Algonquin wejac, which meant fisher, a cousin of the weasel." Hal Borland

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In my Music Notebook...

12/15/2021

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In the bleak midwinter
BY CHRISTINA ROSSETTI

In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow,
In the bleak midwinter, long ago.

Our God, Heaven cannot hold Him, nor earth sustain;
Heaven and earth shall flee away when He comes to reign.
In the bleak midwinter a stable place sufficed
The Lord God Almighty, Jesus Christ.

Enough for Him, whom cherubim, worship night and day,
Breastful of milk, and a mangerful of hay;
Enough for Him, whom angels fall before,
The ox and ass and camel which adore.

Angels and archangels may have gathered there,
Cherubim and seraphim thronged the air;
But His mother only, in her maiden bliss,
Worshipped the beloved with a kiss.

What can I give Him, poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb;
If I were a Wise Man, I would do my part;
Yet what I can I give Him: give my heart.

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In my Nature Notebook...

11/30/2021

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Enduring Voices
(First Week of Advent)

"Now that autumn's silence is upon the land, one can hear the big, enduring voices which seldom shout the things they have to say. One can hear the earth declare that ice, the counterpart of fire, must be reckoned with. One can hear the hills assert their stony structure which forever underlies the soothing green of leaf and shade. One can hear the wind and water discussing polar regions and the fundamental wedge of frost that can level mountains. Listen closely, and one can hear the patient throb of almost suspended life in the root, the bulb, the seed, the egg, waiting for another spring."

- Hal Borland

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