Big Bands
Big Sounds
Big Lyrics
Yesterday, in the car, in torrential rain, we listened to USB sounds of Bette Midler and friends singing slang tunes from the 1950’s. Ouch! Harsh sounds!
Instead, I prefer the language of Seamus Heaney:
Read out loud.
Listen carefully to the vowels.
Let them echo.
And some time make the time to drive out west
Into County Clare, along the Flaggy Shore,
In September or October, when the wind
And the light are working off each other
So that the ocean on one side is wild
With foam and glitter, and inland among stones
The surface of a slate-grey lake is lit
By the earthed lightening of flock of swans,
Their feathers roughed and ruffling, white on white,
Their fully-grown headstrong-looking heads
Tucked or cresting or busy underwater.
Useless to think you’ll park or capture it
More thoroughly. You are neither here nor there,
A hurry through which known and strange things pass
As big soft buffetings come at the car sideways
And catch the heart off guard and blow it open
The Vibrant Channeled Creator 