Wednesday, November 12, 2014

Tempestous Tuesday

"You cram these words into mine ears against
The stomach of my sense." William Shakespeare The Tempest

Isn't this so much more interesting and evocative than these over-used and abused modern-day equivalents:?

"Dude! TMI!"

"Don't speak...Don't tell me cause it hurts." (*singing)

"Talk to the hand 'cause the face ain't gonna listen."

"Don't ask, don't tell."

Or just plainly, "I don't wanna hear it."  Like when your mother said that to you when you had a very good, quite reasonable reason for bringing the car home late.

My brother has a great method of avoidance when he doesn't want to hear something someone is going to say even after he has asked them not to say it.  He sticks his fingers in his ears and starts singing loudly.

"A pox o' your throat, you bawling, blasphemous, incharitable dog!"  (again) Wm. Shakespear The Tempest

 Silence, that golden peace of mind.  There are times when I value it above knowledge and when it is laden with knowing.  There are times when silence comes too late because some fool didn't know when to shut up.

There have been times when my stomach hurt to hear, when the incredible words deflected off my adrenalin-filled, painfully thumping, tempestous heart.  Like when they told me my kid brother died and then again when they told me my sister had just died.  The calming of the storm, naturally, finally descended upon my hurt senses, the years having passed and passed as they have.

It was only a few days after my sister's passing that I went for a walk listening to a Christmas CD by Ryan Shupe and the Rubber Band.  It began to snow a little in that tree-lined neighborhood where I lived at the time.  This is the song I heard for the first time and I couldn't hear it enough ever-after:  It sounds so much more tender and moving than it reads.  I would change the title, too.  I would call it "Deborah's Song."


Snow
it was just snow soft and white
it was just snow falling so light
it was just snow soft and white
falling so light,
falling last night
no it wasn’t a lightning storm
ripping leaves and
the limbs off of trees
and it wasn’t a massive earthquake
the earth buckling from beneath
because he wasn’t quite that sad
and he wasn’t quite that mad
but his messenger died yesterday
and he wanted us to know
so it was just snow soft and white
it was just snow falling so light
it was just snow soft and white
falling so light,
falling last night
no it wasn’t a giant tidal wave
drowning every man
woman and child
and it wasn’t a huge hurricane
wind and rain whipping
‘round us so wild
because he wasn’t quite that sad
and he wasn’t quite that mad
but his messenger died yesterday
and he wanted us to know
so it was just snow soft and white
it was just snow falling so light
it was just snow soft and white
falling so light, 
falling last night    



Here are some of my favorite silent scenes that have occurred after a tempest has settled and things seem to be getting back to being right with the world:







4 comments:

Gorges Smythe said...

Good words (yours and theirs) and pretty pictures.

Jerry E Beuterbaugh said...

Wonderful tribute!

Penny said...

Thanks for your visits and comments, Gorges and Jerry!

Trish said...

Beautiful. I love it, Deborah's song.