Call of The Siren

Butterfly wings

2011-03-23T16:46:00.003-05:00

I know the title of the post is a bit girlie...bear with me. It will make sense in a minute.

It has been a while since I have written anything. The muse has been pretty silent, and maybe my creativity just sort of dies when I am under stress. But lately I have been more inspired. That is a good thing. usually January is very prolific, maybe it will be March this year.

So the week has been a bit strange. I have been ill. The weather is beautiful outside, so it has been a bit of a bummer to be sick. I found out some really bad news from a good friend, news I really could do nothing about, so I just cried. Then I found out news that I could do something about, and instead of crying I mobilized.

I am not good at many things. Yes, creatively I am pretty good, otherwise, not so much.

But I can mobilize people to action. I feel passionate about things, so I act. Sometimes I act impulsively, but sometimes the actions are the right thing to do. Somewhere in the back of my mind I am thinking "get it done! get it done!" And Voila! It gets done. (ok so I work like a dog to get it done, it just seems like magic.)

So the week started with my friends' baby dying. She has lost several babies, some have been born and died, some miscarriages. One baby they adopted and she had to return due to the birth mom changing her mind. They have fostered kids, they have prayed for their own. Yesterday I started crying again, the invitation to her baby shower came. It was mailed before the baby was born and died. I was sad.

Then I got a message from another friend, she was in dire straits. Her husband had left her, bills were due, children were hungry (she has an autistic son, her kids are kindergarten and preschool age) and she was desperate.

I knew no matter what I could not bring that baby back to life, nor could I give my first friend the child of her heart. Helpless..hapless...all I could do was cry. But my second friend, well, that was something I could help. Crying wouldn't fix it, but I could do something. Something radical. Something compassionate. Something driven by my helplessness and passion. And love.

So I raised money yesterday for her. Paid her bills, bought her things and raised enough for groceries as well. Passion and compassion took hold. The first friend in her grief and suffering caused me to relieve someone else's suffering.

MAGIC=radical passionate compassionate LOVE.

Not sure what that says- except I wish every time I suffered in life I could channel it to help others. Not sure why this time was the exception. Not sure why I was the vehicle. I am just glad I was.

So Olivia, if you are reading this..YOU are the reason I helped this little family. My compassion for you drove me to action.

The post, like I said- is very girlie..but the reason the song is called butterfly wings, is because Olivia, (the mom of the baby that passed,) loves butterflies. It is representative of her children that she will see again. While on earth they are caterpillars, waiting to break from the cocoons. In the next life, she will see them perfected. When we choose to break from the cocoon on earth, we show love perfected. I think it is time to be done with our 'caterpillar selves' and learn to fly.

South of the border, down by the sea

Under the orange colored sky

there are monarchs rising, up on the wing

Taking their springtime flight

And I saw as the night pushed the sun

Into the ocean, into the foam

but the butterflies were rising free

Making their way back home

Sing out to the ocean

sing out to the sea

there are wings flying and rising free

Sing out to the tide

Sing out to the wind

sing out until day begins again.

Life and all its troubles it seems

are passing away like the light

and we will make our way home again

Like those butterflies in the night

In the depths of the winter, on a cold clear night

I will bend my ear again

and hear the beating of butterflies' wings

Rising out on the wind.

You are my Song

2010-05-04T23:19:00.002-05:00

I have known several people recently that are struggling in relationships and trying to find some sort of restoration. This parable was written for them.

Music: A modern day parable.

Once upon a time there was a man and a woman. They sat around a record player that was playing an energetic song. Both the man and woman both said "I could listen to this song forever!"

So they played it over and over. The song played and played..it played at their wedding.

And they were happy.

So time went by and the woman said "Hey, let's start listening to lullabies!" So they did. The song played over and over on the record player. They loved the new songs.

And they were happy.

After a while the man said "I am so tired of lullabies. What happened to the old song?" But he was not going to ask to change the record. He knew the woman loved the lullaby.

Then the woman started thinking as well. "I am so tired of lullabies. Why don't we get a new song?" But she was afraid to ask the man.

By and by the man changed the song to a working song. The woman could not relate. She thought it was depressing, harsh and long. Although she did not want the lullaby anymore.

So it happened that she discovered a new music. She played it in her room quietly. It seemed to her the man had no interest in her music, so she never invited him to listen. The man was sad. He wanted to learn the new music, but the woman hogged the record player, and never asked him to join her.

After a while, they played music in other parts of the house. The man grew madder. The woman, sadder. They both wished they had not misplaced the original record.

The woman looked and looked all around for that fun song they once loved. The one that played at their wedding. But the record was gone.

One day the man asked the woman if she wanted to go to the record store with him.

To his surprise, she said yes.

At the store, they found hundreds of albums, new songs and old. They chose a few and took them home to try out. There were fast, slow, loud, soft, long and short songs. There was pop and urban music, reggae, bluegrass and country. There was alternative and Christian music. There was an entire world of music that neither had ever experienced.

The man and the woman realized something. Their connection did not come from a song. They did not have to always listen to the same record over and over. And they did not always have to like the same music. All they really had to do was to share the song that the heart sings. And the Heart's song is, and always will be, Love.

And the man and the woman were happy.

You Are My Song

Come ride with me in the morning

Come sail with me in the dawn

You will have music where ever you go

For I am the singer and you are the song

Come wake with me in the springtime

Before the summer world stirs

Come and sing our song to the waking wind

For I am the music and you are the words

I'll shout your name to the heavens

Share the love you bring

You are the words and the music...

You are the song I sing

come climb with me over mountains

Come ride with me to the moon

Let us listen to love and follow it's lead

For I am the player and you are the tune

In the still and the silent dawn

A thousand angels of fame

They are bursting forth in sweetest song

Every time I speak your name.

Stardust

2010-01-22T19:59:00.004-06:00

I have been watching my son play his new Wii game system this evening. The racetrack he was using was in space...he kept falling off and burning up in the atmosphere. It was funny, as the little mario-kart immediately regenerated and resumed the race.

The burn was brief...it made me think of shooting stars or meteors. (we just finished a space project for the science fair, so they are on my mind.) It also made me think of how many things don't last. So much of life is made of the temporal. I find it a bit sad at times...as I am a fast burn kind of gal. I love to burn as bright as I can, but find that is a state hard to maintain. It requires enormous energy and often makes me depressed, as I need more and more to make me happy. It is nice to have friends and a husband that keep me grounded and stable. thank goodness.

And it is nice when you encounter a friendship that endures.

So I spoke to one of these wonderful friends today. (she is of the mermaids) She is getting serious with her guy. They are in love. She thinks he is the 'one' and he thinks the same of her.

I was so happy for her. She is not a shooting star kind of gal. She is more the steady slow-burn type. But what a blessing that she is happy. (he is lucky.)

So, of course, came the song. I think that some people are more steady than others. Unlike when Evita sang of " burning with the splendor of the brightest star," some stars shine just as well, but less brightly. Enduring and stable...they last.

That describes my friend, my mermaid sister. And I think she has found her match. Enduring: they will shine together.

I miss you, my friend. A million blessings from the sea.

Stardust

Twilight falls

And the color of night is etched onto my window

stars recalled

Lighting the night with silver and purple follows.

Until tomorrow.

Shooting stars burn for a moment.

Meteors are passing fair

But you and I will burn forever

In the silky night-time air

Stardust, we are stardust.

Light returns

The moon is a crescent, she is lying on clouds in the sky

Ocean churns

And the stars guide our way through the paths of the tide

With you by my side

I thought I needed shooting stars

And meteors, too

but I found that what I need is stardust

And babe, that is me and you...

Dawn is here

And the sky breaks apart without a warning

Tell the moon

Goodbye... but know that the stardust will linger through morning..

Seasons enduring.

Shooting stars burn for a moment

Meteors are passing fair

But you and I will burn forever

In the silky night-time air

Stardust, We are stardust.....

Stones

2009-11-16T21:02:00.005-06:00

My weekend was great. A trip with a dear friend to a great place. We shared our old memories, then shared the wisdom 20 years can bring to a life. We are the same. We are different. We are wiser, older. Etched with time and care, love and loss. As Robert often says,
'It is not the age, it is the mileage.' And so it also goes with friendships.

So we sat Sunday morning, together. No words. At the tomb of the unknown soldier in Arlington National Cemetery. As the clicks of the heels rang in the silence, the sun was very intense and hot for November. The cloudless sky was bright blue. The leaves were falling.

The moment really cannot be expressed in words. The leaves were really the key. Like golden rain, or embers falling. They shimmered. They sang. It was a tribute to the fallen. As though they were symbols of the lives that were given in glory, in war, in service. My tears rained down, too.

I cried because of the lives given for me. My freedom. How I would feel if it were Ryan guarding, clicking his heels, carrying the gun with the bayonet. And my feelings about the tomb if Ryan were resting underneath its' marble base. Thinking about the unknown soldiers' sacrifice..I cried more. The guard turned toward us, and looked straight at me with my tear-stained face. He was incredibly young. I felt a surge of pride for him. And for America.

The guard changed. As we turned to go, more leaves rained down in a shower of gold. As the fall slips into the winter, the stones will remember the gold tribute nature which nature provided that day for the fallen. May we never forget the tribute they made with their lives, as they 'fell like embers.'

Stones

Red and gold they shimmer down
Setting fire to the ground
leaves that smolder on the ground
while lighting up the sky

Stones are cold as fire ignites
Rows and rows of stones in white
Stones they whisper to the night
With voices soft and cold.

Red and green, and blue is seen
Yellow is falling in between
And stones are white and still and clean
As the voices sigh

Trees are bare, the sky is gray
Remembering the yesterday
When embers fell, Like soldiers they
Sacrificing true.

So gather up the leaves of gold
their story as it should be told
Of fallen ones, the soldiers bold
Sleeping, sleeping.
Their memory keeping.
Under stones of white.
And tributes of gold.

Indigo Child

2009-11-10T20:28:00.003-06:00

Daylight savings time is over and the days are shorter now..the night falls quickly and the sun is up early. Unfortunately today it did not help me, and I overslept slightly.

But Ryan, like the special sweet responsible guy he is wakes me up. Tells me "Mom its after 6:30! I am already ready and dressed." A being that is 10 years old is a constant blessing in the Heil house.

For those that don't know Ryan, he has overcome many many challenges and is a source of great pride to me. He is not academic. Has many learning problems. He has a disorder that makes him zone out and stare. Asks too many questions, the same questions over and over. He has had unreasonable fears, doubts, and problems. He needed years of therapy to overcome the physical challenges, and the emotional. I was told he would never swim, never learn to ride a bike, never walk a balance beam without falling. He proved them wrong. He compensated and can do all of those things, and ace the rest of the 5th graders around the track. He is a living breathing example of determination and will, and amazing grace.

I have spent my entire life achieving what I perceived as greatness. Always the next thing, the next win, the next big goal reached. I was always striving for more, and I really thought that in achieving more I would be more worthy of love. I needed to be the smartest, prettiest, most accomplished or I was worth nothing.

Then God gave me Ryan and I realized that we are worthwhile simply because we are.

Ryan has amazing talents. He can include people and integrate groups of kids. He has an intuition about people and can actually feel their feelings. He is sensitive and wonderful, and everyone that meets him usually loves him, from senior citizens all the way down to two-year- old's. A feat that I cannot duplicate. I am not sensitive to others' feelings the way he is. Where I am pushy he is open, where I am aggressive he is giving. He shows me that I am not the way I should be. It is humbling. I am grateful.

So I went to dinner with a friend. I was telling her about Ryan, and she said "oh he must be an indigo child." I didn't know what that was, but apparently there are children with a high level of intuition, spirit sensitivity lacking in the rest of us. They are the ones that bring peace to groups and to the world. I don't know if Ryan is, but I loved the idea and decided it would make a wonderful song.

So I dedicate this to Ryan and to all children that are trying to make the world better by being exactly who they are. Sensitive, free, wild, peace-filled and full of love.

Indigo Child

Roll with the Wind down to the sea

Go to the place where the stars want to be

Reflect your light down on the sand

Turn your face to silver strand

Color of ocean, color of night

Your color was made, crystal and bright

So stay free, young and wild

Beautiful one, my indigo child

Don't you let your colors fade

From the deep deep blue to shades of gray

Ultramarine rich and free

Becoming what you were intended to be

Roll out with the winter wind

Light the Auroras and let it begin

Clear as the night on the solstice you rise

Winter is brought by the indigo child

Color of ocean, color of night

Your color was made crystal and bright

So stay free young and wild

Beautiful one, my indigo child.

Take a Leap

2009-10-06T20:09:00.004-05:00

Haven't blogged in several months. It has been a busy time, the move and new house, friends, stores, and a new town to navigate. Many, many days spent at the pool for Ryan and me. A new school and adjusting. Starting over somewhere new is exciting, so the songs have been slow in coming. Concentrated time to think creates the environment for songs..and time is a commodity I simply have not had.

Before the move people were always asking us "why would you want to just leave for the sake of leaving?" Which is a great question.

The answer lies somewhere between what I need and what I want. I want familiarity and an easy time. I want non stressed filled days of just playing guitar and singing. At least I think I want it.

But my need is 'purpose. ' A chance to change a life. A chance to let go of the familiar and step into the unknown. A chance to create something great. A chance to go forward and see what the next chapter holds. The page turner is better with a cliffhanger. The chapter is done and you cant wait for the sequel. It is where I find myself. Both excited and nervous and ready to go mach 3 with my hair on fire. Knowing the status quo is not going to work for me, (it never has. )
As Helen Keller once said "Life is a thrilling adventure, or nothing."

So there I am. Acting too young. Living too loud and not being afraid of giving myself away. And so I open the much anticipated sequel to the book of my life. It will come highly recommended...a real page-turner.

Take a Leap

I think I'll act too young today.
Go outside and run and play.
Go to the neighbors', make a friend.
and never want the day to end.

I think I'll go to fast in my car,
And maybe throw in my guitar
And play some hookey on the beach...
Let the waves wash over me.

I think I'm not going to look both ways
I think I'll just step out on faith,
The cliff is tall , and I can't see
I'll shut my eyes and take a leap.

I'll talk to strangers on the street
and take the time when our eyes meet.
To see them in a different way....
and see if it comes back in spades.

I think I'm gonna break a rule..
And live out loud and not on cue.
Try not to think before I speak..
And say I love you more than once a week.

I think I'll take a risk today
And give part of myself away.
The cliff is high and I cant see...
So I'll just shut my eyes and take a leap.
Shut my eyes and take a leap.

Cerulean Blue

2009-07-29T00:39:00.002-05:00

Just got back from mermaid weekend with the siren's. it is the same. It is always the same, easy friendship we have known. It is different, as we are older. The sun was bright and hot, the pool was clear and we had a great time. Rikie's daughter is becoming a 'person' and was much more involved in our weekend. I had to say goodbye to 3 mermaids this time..not just one. And my trip home was solitary. Things are changing. Time is passing.

Singing, eating, then singing some more. then a swim. mermaids do that.

Now I am uploading photos of 15 and 20 years ago. Robert is gone and I am up way way too late. But the memories are very vivid. I remember names and places and faces. it is exciting to share it and get feedback from people who feel as I do. That the connection is still there through the memory. Whatever our situation now, the colors in our memory are just as rich as ever.

My favorite color is turquoise. It has been my mom's favorite most of her life..the color of the ocean. And now it is my favorite. I like it best. Even though there are other colors that catch my eye, I always come back to that rich aqua color of a Caribbean sea.

even though there are memories of places, times and things..the people always hold the best spot in my memory. it makes me long to see those people. To reminisce and see what has changed and what has stayed the same. I don't want a time turner, maybe just a new pic or two of how we are now. I love change, but sometimes, Cerulean blue is best.

Cerulean Blue

I have always liked the Azure sky
but it always seems so high
Would rather have you here with me
closer than the sea...

I have always liked the color green
it seems so fresh and seems so clean
But dark sometimes can be the view
the sea is better for me and you.

Cerulean Blue
Always seems to remind me of you
the color of my memory
Cerulean's all I see.

I've always liked blue mountains high
Snow that is falling from the sky
clear waters flowing free
not so deep as my memory of

Cerulean Blue
Always seems to remind me of you
the color of my memory
Cerulean's all I see.

I have always liked the Yellow sun
Setting when the day is done
out over the western sea
Reflecting as it needs to be over

Cerulean Blue

the color of my memory.
cerulean's all i see
Cerulean's all I see.

The Sea Wolf

2009-04-02T17:13:00.004-05:00

I took my grandmother's mandolin out again today. I am trying to learn the tremolo, which is the rapid movement of the pick over the mandolin strings. Right now, it is not going so well. I have the chording down somewhat, but the tremolo is so difficult. A practiced hand with a mandolin is so wonderful to listen to. Unfortunately, my hand needs more practice.

So much of who I am really is very similiar to who my grandmother was. Musician, people person and friend, she was a light to the people that knew her. Her heritage is passed to me, and I must continue her musical legacy. Her other great-grandaughter, also a namesake, (Libby) has I think inherited a few musical genes as well.....but time will tell her gifts. We are all products of our heritage, whether we embrace that or not.

We recently went on a video shoot (our first!) for our Safe Harbour song. A fellow named Scott Self took us out on his handmade spanish wood boat. A sailboat. A work of art. A labor of love.
His heritage belongs to the sea, and the people that dwelled by the cliffs in England. Pressed into military service, they refused, and lived along the shoreline, fishermen and scavengers. They would mobilize for sea rescues, and were referred to as 'Sea Wolfs.' The Sea Wolfs sailed to America for a better life, and while settling in the Gulf coast city of Galveston, their surname was shortened to 'Self.' The last name of Self is the most common in that area. Our Captain that day, Scott Self, and the boat was called the "Sea Wolf."

The girls and I thought it appropriate that we write Scott a song, and dedicate it to the Sea Wolfs of the past, and the present. Our own ties to the sea provide a nice, fitting background for a tribute.

Sea wolf
Lend me your ear and I'll tell you my tale
Of my people from England whose eyes looked for sails
From Lands End to Portsmouth they looked to the seas
For wreckage to plunder; their hard lives to ease

Set sail, oh Seawolf, to lands far away
To a new port of call and a bright temperate day
This new land brings promise we never have known
a place to call our home

The journey was long and the waves were so high
But a new day of promise was fresh on their minds
Deciding to press on through the foam
They were trying to find a place to call home

So I hear them tonight on the sea
The voice of my people and time’s mystery
Saying ‘fly on the sea wolf, and claim our fame’
‘Remember our spirit, remember our name’

We will sail on the Seawolf to lands far away
To new ports of call, and bright temperate days
This new land brings promise we never have known
A place to call our home.

copyright 2008, LeighAnn Heil

Safe Harbour

2009-03-18T18:05:00.009-05:00

I am blind as a bat without my contact lenses on. Resistant to lasik, I take my contacts out each night and wake to a fuzzy day. then I put the contacts back on and things come back into focus.

I also have problems at night, especially out on the highway, when the headlights have a starburst effect and my eyes become tired. There is nothing like those lights on the horizon though..late at night, when you spot the lights of the city. You know you are almost home.

If anyone knows me they also know I love traveling to and on the water...boats, beaches, oceans. I love riding those waves and feeling that spray. ( if you dont know, just read a few songs.) The imagery of the ocean is really endless. Poets use it and the imagery of boats to represent our passage through life. Alfred Lord Tennyson uses the boat through his poem 'crossing the bar' to represent the passage from life to life after death:

Sunset and evening star,
And one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea,
........For tho' from out our bourne of Time and Place
The flood may bear me far,
I hope to see my Pilot face to face
When I have crossed the bar.

It has been a murky passage lately. Unclear, unsure. Frustrating. Listening carefully for the Spirit to speak and only hearing silence. Hearing healing prayers answered, but silence for purpose. The air is still, no compass, no direction. Fog everywhere, and no sun in sight.

Perhaps there is a point in everyone's life where they feel adrift on a sea.. The Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner says it well.

Day after day, day after day,
We stuck, nor breath nor motion;
As idle as a painted ship
Upon a painted ocean

there have been times I have wondered where I am going. what I am doing. and whom I should be doing it with. All of these things are important. But when we cannot see those things clearly, we can rest assured there is a final harbor. A destination where we will anchor and live forever. A place where our purpose is clear and nothing is hidden any longer.

Our creator is guiding us there, (whether the wind blows us or not.) To a place where none of us will need our glasses...For we shall see Him as He is.

Safe Harbour
written for Ainsley Floyd, 2008

who knows where the cold wind blows when the winter goes away?
who knows why the young get old and sail out on their way?
who can say whether fair or storm will guide you in the wind?
You can know wherever you go you can find your home again.

Angel when you spread you sails
And fly like wings in the wind
Dont you fear for I'll not fail
To help you find, your safe harbour again.

Who knows what castaways
you will take aboard?
who knows what treasures gold
Of an ancient pirate hoard

who can say if you will travel far
or sail in ports near home
But I will say wherever you go
you will never go alone.

Who can say whether fate will lead us
Far away from shores we know
If the compass fails or the skies turn red
Or if the weather will hold?

And who knows what you may find
when your journey meets its end?
But I will say a safe harbour awaits
My angel and my friend

Angel when you spread your sails
And fly like wings in the wind
Dont you fear for I'll not fail
To help you find....your safe harbour again.
copywrite 2008, LeighAnn Heil

Quiet Peace

2009-02-14T21:26:00.003-06:00

My husband loves TV. He likes it loud. He likes News, loud. very loud.

I am not a big TV watcher. when he is gone it is off. I dont really like TV, other than just on lightly in the background. i would rather play guitar, write songs or listen to music. but he loves the noise, it stimulates the learning processing part of His brain.

sometimes I just want peace.

Peace in the silence. Peace in the still. Peace to hear the Father's voice.

Sometimes I also just want peace, in that the trouble stops for a while. We have ups and we have downs, it would be nice to occasionally have level. Just level smooth roads for several miles. It seems as though for my family, and the mermaids, and my friends.... it has been a while since things were smooth.

Mermaid number 2 is having problems with health, and more problems at work. She has taken a stand for the right, and is suffering. Mermaid number 4 has taken on the problems of a needy family, and is suffering. Mermaid number 3 is pregnant and it is risky, she is tired and is suffering. We would all dearly love the peace that comes when we are together, singing and laughing.

but for now we hold to the faith we all share. We know that peace is there in our friendships and our God. We know that around the corner is time together. that quiet peace we look for is close.

I wrote this song for Mermaid number 3's baby, still currently in utero. but the meaning transcends the Mom, baby and Ainsley.... the song is also God's love song, father to daughter. He calls the Angels to sing, He who whispers "peace" over us, and it is He rocks us gently home at the end.

Quiet Peace
written for Autumn Floyd, 2009

The night is dark, the winters howling.
The fire burns brightly while I sing.
And I rock you gently, upon the water
The river of my love, flowing free

I will rock you on the water,
I will rock you on the sea,
And you will hear an angel singing,
She’s singing “sleep now” quiet peace.

The woods are deep, the road is long.
I cannot say, where it will go…
But my love is always, never-ending
Like rivers melting, after the snow

The world is dark and large and lonely
There’s love and danger everywhere,
But my love runs deeper, than any ocean
Call out to the water, and find me there….

When you find love, and you find adventure
And when you find yourself, all alone
Go to the shoreline, and feel the waves wash you…
And my love will rock you, safely home.

I will rock you on the water
I will rock you on the sea
And you will hear the angel singing
She is singing " sleep now "
Quiet peace.
LeighAnn Heil, 2009

The Space Between

2009-01-28T22:44:00.002-06:00

Taking the get well card out of my purse, I dont know what to do with it now. It is addressed "mitzi." Cant bring myself to throw it away, and I cant open it up. It is frozen in time now, and I must purchase a sympathy card.

Weird feelings flood me, she really was so so young. Wow, I am almost her age. And bam, she has gone. Then there are the regrets, I was on my way to the hospital to see her. I was in town by chance. I was there the day before but didnt find the time to go in. The phone call came, and my plans and my card are for naught.

That space between this life and the next is such a challenge. Do I have faith enough. Do I love God enough to trust that someday, I will be able to say "hey, girl!" to Mitzi in person. Do I know the Comforter enough to let Him comfort me, or will I be ruled by regret?

The chasm and the space between God and us....it is fathomless and no one has seen it, but the Father and the son. He must have reached through the temples of time and seen it, known there was no way across for us. Lost, lost to ourselves. to death. Death and separation forever from the one who made us.

but fortunately I will be crossing over that space, and I will see the people that I care about who have gone on. I will see Mitzi and Kari and Gary and Kim and many others. i will use the bridge that Jesus made for me so very long ago.

I, for one, am glad he reached across, and saved us.

The Space between

There is a picture in a chapel
On a Roman Ceiling
And the story it is telling
Is the story of you and me

For If you look up you can see
Adam reaching across
That ceiling Michaelangelo painted…
Every hopeful never dross..

So close but so far
I just have to get to where you are
If we can get beyond the times we have seen
Then we can reach across
The space between

There is a deep ravine that I can see
With no way to get around
So If you want to reach the other side you must use
The rope bridge far above the ground.. .

We got a past, I know it is true
There are photographs of me and photographs of you
But if we will turn back the page of history
We can find those pictures of you and me.

So close, but so far..I just have to get to where you are
If we can get beyond those times we have seen...
then we can reach across the space between.

white

2009-01-09T22:06:00.002-06:00

the thursday challenge for this week, color. Unfortunately, that title is in so many songs, it was a distraction for me earlier today, as it was for Hilary. We lose focus when "blue eyes cryin in the rain" is playing in a perpetual loop.

I thought of all kinds of colors today. My favorite is turquoise, but that doesnt rhyme very well. Red is nice, but over used. I tried several colors. Then I settled on one and started to write.

Once I got focused, the song came easily, a tune came readily and in 15 min...I had a song.

I dont know why I struggle so much. I struggle for control, struggle to "fix" things. Struggle with my child, struggle with my time. Struggle to achieve. It is so much work, exhausting, really. Uses my energy and makes me unhappy. I do "what I do not want to do," just like Paul.

You would think I would learn the lesson from my songwriting..relax and let go. Focus and find freedom. Release and you can get "in the flow." Only then the song arrives. As the wind blows the cold front in outside, I regret that tomorrow will be 30 degrees when today was 80, but it is fruitless to struggle against the wind. Winter will have its way, granted only by the Creator.

I chose the color white. Pure and clean. The rider on the white horse. white robes, pure like linen. Where we can place our focus and everything makes sense. And so I will relinquish my control and stop struggling. He is the ultimate songwriter anyway. Everything else is just noise.

Winter White, Winter White
Winter Cold and clean and bright
Send the snow and dark deep sky
winter bring your song

Winter cold and winter white
Windy days and starry nights
Time for hope and time for cheer
Winter bring your song

A winter song flows on the wind
and makes the year begin again
The frost will thaw and spring will come
So winter sing your song

winter dark and winter dear
Winter white is cold and clear
Gleaming days and silvery nights
Sing sweet winter white

See the frost perched on the ground
and the snow falling like down
Like feathers from the northern sky
Sing sweet winter white
Sing sweet winter white.

This, too, shall pass

2008-12-09T22:28:00.002-06:00

The wind is super strong tonight and I just looked at the temperature..brrrrr! It is 30 degrees! We went golfing on Sunday in the balmy 70 degree sunshine. But as they say in Abilene, and most parts of Texas: If you don't like the weather, wait a few minutes..it will change!

I remember a college day in Lubbock. I went into church with a light jacket, as there was a mild chill in the air, but the sun was still shining. Then I came out of church 2 hours later, and there was a blizzard outside. A few hours later the snow burned off, and the dirt started blowing. By 4 p.m. the sky was red and everyone was very very confused. God and His fabulous creation are full of surprises.

So many things in life seem long. Waiting for babies, in the case of my friend Olivia and mermaid #3. Waiting for health, as my friend mermaid #2 has. Waiting for pronouncement from doctors that the cancer is gone. Waiting for grief to abate and for life to return to a pseudo normal state. Waiting for the time to pass. Waiting for winter to end.

Life has a way of changing so rapidly, it is exciting and crazy and hurtful emotional. But all of life is simply a waiting game. For this life was meant to pass. All the weird, terrible and wonderful things don't last down here.

But I am grateful that things change, they get better, they get worse. Time and chance happen to us all. Our babies grow and they become little people, gradually finding out that Santa isn't real and that You, the parent, really don't know everything. Our babies grow and have new babies who believe that you, the grandparent, do know everything. Time passes. Winter melts into spring. Christmas must come and pass so that Easter can come.

As we are passing from the winter of our discontent, let us learn to be happy in the days we have. There is a poem I read once, that stuck with me for around 20 years. It is the following:

Look well to this day
For it is life
The very best of life.
In its brief course lie all
The realities and truths of existence,
The joy of growth, the splendour of action,
The glory of power.
For yesterday is but a memory.
And tomorrow is only a vision.
But today well lived
Makes every yesterday a memory of happiness
And every tomorrow a vision of hope.
Look well, therefore to this day.

As our winter passes, don't forget to enjoy the crazy world and existence we have been given. Even the dirt storms.

Winter passing

Take the blanket and tuck it in tight
For the wind is raging with all of it’s might
A storm is blowing far out on the sea.
But tonight , tonight we are passing…passing
Passing like winter into the spring..

What is the hour, I heard myself say
But I don’t really care, since its night and not day
And the wee hours are precious as the dawn will appear
But tonight we are Passing passing
Passing like winter so dear

It is funny that I cannot help but sing
And influence creation to do the same thing
But our song has almost come to an end
Passing, passing, like winter our friend

Hold your breath with me and ride through the snow
For our times at an end and the moon’s sinking low
But we will ride with the end in our sight…..
For tonight we are Passing, Passing
Passing passing like winter so bright
Passing passing like winter so bright.

The Big Reveal

2008-11-28T21:47:00.009-06:00

This past weekend, Robert and Ryan and I stood on the front porch and watched the crescent moon finish the picture of fall. Jupiter and Venus are very close, and the southern sky is incredibly clear this time of year. Making three distinct shapes in the sky, so bright and beautiful.

When investigating the very bright stars, I discovered that Jupiter and Venus have been close before in history, so close they almost seem as one star. There is a christian scientist that has researched the time of Christ, showing that around the time of his birth, Jupiter and Venus were that close. If they were, it gives a scientific explanation of that 'star of wonder, star of night, star with royal beauty bright.'

I like to think though, that God might have created the planets simply to help announce the birth of His son, the saviour. It is much like a parent would decorate for a birthday party, or a new parent preparing a nursery. Perhaps He did not use the existing planets but prepared a special star. I like it that it is a mystery, and our wisdom cannot fathom the reasons, nor the preparation.

I also thought of the shepherds in the fields, late late that night. keeping watch over the flocks.

They are the first to know. The lowest, least educated people are informed first. and they are informed in the middle of the night, when the synagogue rabbis and the Roman soldiers and the royal Jewish families are sleeping.

So many of the realizations I have had came from times when I have been awake and all the world is sleeping. Something about the quiet of the night that makes the Spirits' voice loud and clear in my mind. Times I have to read and study usually occur at night, when the house is quiet and I am alone with my thoughts. The best songs are written then, the realizations I have about life and love. The quiet talks with God, the scriptures, the tears, and many revelations.

I have learned that those moments of insomnia are to be treasured, not dreaded. That winter can come and I can enjoy the cold wind on my face. Knowing that some of those long, cold, nights, the Spirit will nudge me awake, and I will see the Father's face.

Reveal

Jupiter and Venus are shining through my window
And its 2 a.m.
And I woke with the noise of silence all over
and I cant find a friend

for the worlds frozen over, and all of the clover
Is now a blanket of solid white.
so the sleep that was waiting for me
will wait a bit longer tonight

For tonight I am open and free
reveal it reveal it reveal it to me
Since I cannot see what you want me to be
Reveal it reveal it reveal it to me.

take me out of the familiar
and take my spirit high
So i can be ready right when you call
Like those shepherds on Xmas night

On the fourth watch of the night
wont you call to me?
I will hear your voice over the storm
and let me walk with you, out on the sea

Sometimes it seems like the night is held fast
and morning never comes
But I will hold fast to the hand of
the one and only risen Son.

For tonight I am open and free,
Reveal it reveal it reveal it to me
Since I cannot see what you want me to be
Reveal it reveal it reveal it to me
Reveal it reveal it reveal it to me.

The Road

2008-11-16T22:30:00.002-06:00

I am learning Italian. I bought the bullet and purchased software that uses visual cues. Plodding through the lessons, I realize that my grammar is atrocious. So it goes. But hoping that in the future I could ( at least,) read a bit of Italian, I continue.

My language quest is really about the future. The P.h.d I plan to pursue in the humanities. The dream trip to Rome and Venice and Florence that I plan to take with my hubby and son . The thought that perhaps, I might be able to read Giacomo Puccini's opera libretto in the
original language.

The saying "all roads lead to Rome" is appropriate for me, it is what I am planning for.

The challenge this week is "the road." So I must produce a song or live in shame. Mermaid #2 is already hard at work on her own "road."

Roads are so applicable to life. They are long, they are windy and you never know where there might be a dead end, or a sharp hairpin turn. Sometimes so smooth, like glass. Sometimes like driving in New Mexico. (ugh) Sometimes the google map is completely wrong and takes you the long way. Sometimes your Garmin is way off base. Sometimes you have to trust yourself to choose the road you need, and sometimes it is chosen for you.

The very unexpected aspect of the road draws us. Turn a corner in Rome and you will see modern apartments, but turn another corner and there is the Pantheon. The road to the Spanish steps is lined with mall-like stores. The roadways in Venice are water, and they are very dirty, but the next turn shows the Doge's palace dome. Whether mundane or marvelous, the road is something to be ventured.

Road trip, anyone?

The Road Knows

I asked the wind as I saw him on my way,
Where will you take me, and I heard him say
Oh, only the road knows.

I asked the trees in the forest of green
What do you think tomorrow might bring?
And the leaves shimmered…
“only the road knows.”

And the road, goes on and on
And the road, winds on and on
Singing never ending songs

I asked the sea, to search its’ depths for me
And find the answers that I was bent to seek
the waves crashed and I was told
Only the road knows.

I asked the stars shining above
Where would I go, and when would I find love?
And they called down to me
Go ask the road.

and the road, goes on and on
And the road, winds on and on

I asked the road to open up to me
Answer my question and give to me some peace,
But it sang, ‘follow me’
And you will know, just what the road knows.

And the road, goes on and on
And the road, goes on and on
Singing a never-ending song
Only the road knows.
Only the road knows.

Hope

2008-11-04T14:00:00.009-06:00

What a funny little word to blog about. Four teeny tiny letters that keep us going, day in and day out. Whatever our religion, background or belief, hope is the one thing we all share.

We have started something new, and mermaid number 2 and I have decided to write weekly to get our songwriting chops back into shape. Each of us will take turns deciding a one word or phrase to write about, or an idea. Last weeks word was "glass" and my song was in my last blog. This weeks' word is harder, both to write about and to maintain, the word is "hope."

why is it that we are all so caught up in hope? You cant see it or touch it or feel it. Yet it is all around us and in everything we do.

When we are children, we hope for the future, we hope we are older, we hope for Xmas to come...right now! Time, though, has a way of changing that. Then we hope for others' future, hope for the world, hope for eternity. We live and learn and experience joy and pain. Yet hope remains as palpable at 50 and 60 and beyond as it did at 5 and 6.

As far as my life is concerned, only one thing has stood between me and hope, and never for long. It was my past. I could use the past to become bitter, as I have experienced terrible sadness and tragedy and physical pain. Or I could use the past as something to hold tightly to, as I have also experienced incredible joy, thrills, excitement and opportunities that few see.

I choose to hold to neither, but to live well for this day. Hope, it seems, must have its way.

Hope springs eternal in the human breast
Man never Is, but always To be blest
The soul, uneasy and confin'd from home,
Rests and expatiates in a life to come. -Alexander Pope,An Essay on Man, Epistle I, 1733

Couldn't have said it better myself.

Let It Go

There is a gray cloud in my way
I saw it on the sidewalk as I stepped out today
And I heard it crying and raining down
And I couldn't pick my eyes up off of the ground.

But tomorrow is a new day
New hopes are rising and the gray clouds fade
And there is a better time coming, if I will be bold
Turn to the future before I grow cold

But I know, the winds are going to blow,
I'm going to leave the past and let it go.

The open box of Pandora's, started it all
she shut the lid quickly, then she heard a call,
something tapping on the inside, making us know
That hope must follow trouble, wherever it goes....

But I know, those winds are going to blow,
I'm going to leave the past and let it go.

Don't know if its wise, Dont really know at all..
But I am going to listen to hope, whenever she calls,
So if she comes knocking on your window tonight,
Tell her I will be waiting in the morning light...

Because I know, winds are going to blow
I'm going to leave the past and let it go.

Mermaids Tears

2008-10-27T22:24:00.014-05:00

I was sad today, no particular reason. My family is getting better, we had a great visit with my extended family and a fun, busy weekend. But never the less, today I was blue.

So many things I should be happy about, so many to be thankful for. There was a time I would have been ashamed to be sad. But the older I get the more I realize that life and feelings should be experienced as they come. As we experience the happy so do we experience the sad, each in its own turn. Sickness sometimes turns to healing, and sometimes joy changes to sorrow as well. There is a time for both.

I can see the jar of sea glass on the shelf. Sea glass is also known as 'mermaid's tears,' which I find rather beautiful, especially since I am feeling blue. Sea glass starts as sharp clear broken pieces, then spends years of tumbling in ocean waves, softening the sharp edges of shards of broken glass. The edges smooth, and the color mellows from clear to opaque, as the water is infused into the core. The result is a lovely glistening jewel on the sand. Trash is transformed to treasure.

We experience the highs and lows of life, and as we do our sharp edges are burned away. We are transformed into treasure. Our traumatic metamorphosis in the sea allows us to find the true beauty in our souls. Our purpose is better understood, as we are refined and revealed. We are created and we are transformed. So the hard times come and the great times come and each prepares us for the bigger picture.

So I embrace those "mermaid tears" when they are flowing and the 'mermaid songs' when I am joyful. After all, they are really my true self.

Sea Glass

There is a jar of sea glass
On the bookshelf in the living room
And the colors range from red to green
To aqua shades and teal and blue

And all the glass in the jar, tells a story
Of each piece and its’ shattered broken past
But the beauty within a shard is revealed
As it is tossed and thrown to the sand at last

For We are all shattered and scattered
Taking our chances on the salty sea
Crashing over seas of joy and suffering
Love and loss and life to see….
And the sand is polishing, the waves are washing
Taking us to places never seen before
Preparing all of us for a different purpose
Becoming what we all were created for.

And the glass is no longer clear or whole
It is in pieces in the time and tide
And the colors play with light and shade
Revealing the journey over oceans wide

For we are all born, clear as crystal
And we are all meant to break and go
Scattering out, over deep wide oceans
Changing into something better than before….

For We are all shattered and scattered
Taking our chances on the salty sea
Crashing over seas of joy and suffering
Love and loss and life to see….

And the sand is polishing, the waves are washing
Taking us to places never seen before
Preparing all of us for a different purpose
Becoming what we all were created for.

Angels

2008-10-15T19:27:00.005-05:00

My birthday was last Wednesday, and Mermaid #2 gave me a lovely journal and a devotional book. She is a traditionalist when it comes to literature, so the book was The Imitation of Christ, By Thomas a Kempis. Originally written for monastics in the 14th century, the language is beautiful and very "King James." I am a sucker for anything renaissance/restoration, so a perfect gift for me.

During my last night's reading of that devotional tome, I started thinking about quiet service. About the angels that run around on earth, and just do good works. Quietly, not drawing attention, they love and give and make a difference.

I call myself blessed to know, love and be best friends with 3 ladies that are quiet and gently serving, serving. Each in her own way takes extra care with her family, her friends and the people she meets. Quietly, mermaid #2 teaches and reads and prays and serves. Loving and selfless, mermaid #3 mothers in a gentle way everyone she meets, while serving in her quietly gifted way. Not drawing attention, mermaid #4 offers solace and rest and hope and love, and gives gives gives.

So many people aspire to be something great, something seen and heard in a grand way. But the lives of quiet service are beyond worth. We sometimes forget that the unseen and unheard service are the things that are most prized with our God. I would like to pay a tribute to the women in my life, my Mom, Grandmother, Sister in laws, Mother in law and my close dear friends that have touched me in a quiet way that has changed me forever. Changed me to be more giving, less selfish, more generous and less worried about what others might think of me when I am more like Christ.

I wrote this song for Rikie when she moved away. She has always sounded Angelic, but people don't always know that she also has other angelic qualities, working diligently to serve God through serving her family and friends. She is such a loving, gentle mom, and I love her dearly.

I like to think of the four of us as those spirits in Hans Christian Andersons' The Little Mermaid, going around the earth helping quietly, not asking for things in return. They have shown me that the seen is so much less important than the unseen. And I am so grateful, as my mermaids continue to show me what it means to serve, really serve, and know that quiet service really does matter.

Cry Like An Angel

When words are unspoken when heartaches run long
When the mountains are misty and the heather is gone
When winter has frozen your heart to the core
You can cry to me softly, without any words.

Cry like an angel, sing like the sea
Cry like an angel, come cry to me
Dance like the fire, and soar like a bird
Cry like an angel, when there are no words.

When miles are between us and leagues still remain
The river will guide you back home again
When miles are between us and the storms rage and roar
Use the ocean to send your message to shore...

When your soul grows so tired and lonely with fear
Cry out on the western wind, and I will hear.

and Cry like an angel, sing like the sea
Cry like an angel come cry to me,
Dance like the fire, and soar like a bird
Cry like an angel...when there are no words.

Joy in the Morning

2008-10-07T16:52:00.009-05:00

The last few nights we have been up all night. Robert has been ill and Ryan has been ill and we have not slept. Excruciating to wait until the morning comes. Sleep is elusive and loneliness is your only companion. After a while you run out of things to pray about, and the prayer becomes a mantra, of "Lord, let me get to sleep!"

But then I was looking through a letter this afternoon...I had put it away to think and pray about it. It was from a friend who has seen some lonely times and has a living testimony to share. She and her husband are adopting a child and I sat and just cried tears of joy and relief.

(of course that is easy to do when you are working on 2 hours of sleep, but I was very happy, too.)

I love to vicariously watch some one's journey from sadness to joy, from darkness into light and from night to morning. I read scripture to Ryan last night, it said "though the sorrow may last through the night, joy comes in the morning."

Much like the dark of night, the sadness that consumes us is consumed by the sun that rises in the east. My friend has always had the metaphor of the caterpillar on her blog and emails. A caterpillar lives and cocoons and then,must think...'this is all there is.' But the darkness of the cocoon is short lived, and the caterpillar must be very surprised, awakening to change and to beauty and to flight.

I thought last night about the garden and about loneliness, and sleeplessness and terrible sorrow. I thought about the lonely nights for the disciples..Friday night, Saturday night. No joy to be found in those mornings. And the nights: long, cold, dark, hopeless and helpless.

But Sunday, Sunday always has a way of coming. And the caterpillar awakens and the night is gone and the Sun rises. And the Son rises.

So I am happy for my friend and I am happy that her morning of joy has come. Welcome, Elora, you are greatly loved, you are greatly wanted. I am ready to see you fly.

See You Fly

In your cocoon
Cozy like a womb
We are waiting for you, keep waiting for you

A love deeper than the sea
A crown of victory
We are waiting for you, keep waiting for you

For God is sending you right into our midst
Keeping all the mysteries hidden in his fist
Finally letting go and looking to the Sky
He has plans for you
And I cant wait to see you fly

Shining like a light
Like a beacon in the night
Hope is calling to us, calling to us

When the night was dark
There was always a spark
When Love was looking for you, and we were looking too.

For God is sending you right into our midst
Keeping all the mysteries hidden in His fist
We are letting go and looking to the sky
He has plans for you
And I cant wait to see you fly

There is coming a day
When I will see your face
And I will look at you, and God will be there too

You will spread your wings
And our heart will sing
Music that will rhyme, our story written before time..

For God is sending you right into our midst
Keeping all the mysteries hidden in His fist
But we are letting go and looking to the sky
He has plans for you
And I cant wait to see you fly

Edge of the World

2008-09-09T23:50:00.009-05:00

It has been a month since I last blogged, and it seems like a constant whirlwind of activity has been going since then. Our vacation to the caribbean cancelled, the hurricane and its aftermath. Our spontaneous trip to california..my husband very ill. Then school starting, the finishing touches of our recording and the non-stop care of my special needs son.

As my husband has learned this month, there is a link between suffering and compassion, between pain and understanding. The ability to empathize only comes through experience. We are innately available to serve when we are offered the opportunity to suffer.

Oh, but it is so hard! Trying to reason through pain. Trying to "figure it out" and solve it ourselves. It never works. It never will.

Mostly because pain doesn't come to bad people or because we do wrong things. This is one of life's hardest lessons; pain is no respector of persons, or time, or money. It comes to us all in its' own measure.

After we suffer, we want to close ourselves off. Take no risks. Make safe choices and be careful to not offer too much of our hearts and minds and souls. Failure might happen and pain with it. But right then, right then, is the best chance we have to make a choice to risk again, and be so useful to others as well as ourselves.

I look at my son and I realize that everything he does is a risk. Life itself is a risk to a special needs kid. A risk to try since he has so many fears. A risk to love, as he is so intensely involved in others souls that he cannot extricate himself. A risk to fall and a risk to fail. But he takes the chance everyday, and he is strong, strong, strong, and I love him for it.

I hope he continues to chance and risk and love. I hope he sails to the edge of his world and beyond. Most parents want that for their children. I want him to be happy, but I know he will share in suffering in this world. When he does, I hope that he continues to sail, and continues to keep his heart open. Thank God that He allowed His own son to suffer for us.

There is a lot of open water. Want to dive in?

Edge of the World

Go to the edge of the world
Out where the ocean is crowned with island pearls
And the sirens are singing free
They are calling to you and calling to me

At the edge of the world
Ride with me, let your wings unfurl
Keep the horizon in your view
the edge of the world is out there waiting for you

go to the edge of the sea
Walk down the shore and into the deep
Treasure is waiting there for you
If you hold your breath and dive into the blue

Go to the edge of the night
Catch a ride on a chariot taking flight
Before that golden orb comes into view
The edge of the night is out there for you

Columbus knew, and I do, too
That the edge of the world is just a point of view
Sure it is safer when you stay
But adventure is yours when you sail away

at the edge of the world
Ride with me, let your wings unfurl
Keep the horizon in your view
The edge of the world is out there waiting for you.

Song of the Siren

2008-08-13T20:02:00.002-05:00

Summer is fading. I realized today that school starts for us next Wednesday. The beautiful, carefree, swimming pool- pruned days are waning. The sun is still bright but it is getting darker earlier, and the nights are shorter now. As summer gives up its' fight with fall, there is a sweet moment that I wish could extend just a bit. Just another night of warmth. One more swim. One more day of rest. One more moment of peaceful reflections.

The Persieus meteor shower is to be outside tonight. The stars always seem to reflect the time and tides of the seasons. Falling from the sky, even the stars know that the time of summer is closing. God's design of seasons determined by the moon, the tide and the relationship of the earth to the sun.

It is quiet in the house. My son is being a fish in the bathtub, and my husband is resting. During the peace, I cannot keep the songs from flying through my head. Curse or blessing, the gift of music is ever present, just dulled slightly by noise or chatter. But when I really listen, music is there.

As the sun descends into the darkness progressing outside, I cannot stop the time or tide or night or fall approaching. But I can listen, really listen to that sweet sirens song of nature. Fill my spirit with the peace-filled sounds of summer. And listen for the song.

Song of the Siren

Look out of your window tonight
Get out of the shadows and dance in the light
The archers strings are taking flight
Sing a song, sing a song of the sirens tonight.

Look out of your window today
Smell the salt water take in the spray
Dance out on the open waves
Sing a song, sing a song of the siren today

Sing a song of the Siren
Sing a song of the Sea
Sing a song of the Siren
Sing it loud, Sing it to me

Sing when night is falling
Sing when the day breaks clean
Sing when the ocean is calling
And the sky is on fire and the waves billow green

Look out on the open sea
Raise your voice and sing with me
there is a place where we can be....
Starlight and shadow, sky and sea

Look out on the horizon clear
Listen well and you will hear
The Sirens' song is drawing near
Sing a song Sing a song of the siren's so clear
Sing a song Sing a song of the siren tonight

Listen to song of the siren at
www.cdbaby.com/sirenssong2

track 15

the Silk road

2008-08-06T22:19:00.003-05:00

My son and I went shopping yesterday. After buying loads of very cheap markdown nike clothing for him, we went to the Misses section. He was patient and let me look for a long while.

He found a dress for me, all silk, with all the colors I love woven in. Aqua and fuschia, bright yellow and cobalt. So beautiful. (he has exquisite taste...some girl is going to be very lucky to have him as a husband) I tried it on, and unfortunately it was an extra large.

At one point last year, I was an extra large size, but lost sixty pounds. I am more of a small now. So I was a bit disappointed. But looking closer at the seams and the way the dress was made, I realized that it was easily altered. I have been sewing since age 8, (thanks, MOM!) so with that knowledge I happily made my purchase.

(Ryan picked out for himself a dark green basketball outfit, which he has worn now for 2 days straight. i made him remove it today to wash it, but he is planning on wearing it tomorrow as well. )

So with a bit of effort, something beautiful that I love will fit me perfectly. Without me working on it, though, it will remain on the hanger, as a beautiful but non-functional garment.

So much of life is what we put into it. We can choose that dress and leave it in the closet. We can have an aquaintance that never becomes a friend. Neglect the nagging voice that tells us to visit someone, or take a meal, or listen, or forgive? Leave things unsaid and unspoken. Fill ourselves with regrets.

We can look at life or we can participate. We can throw up our hands and give up, or we can fight that urge and give and pray. We can ask for more to do, or we can sit back and let others do.

I wrote a song about the travels of Marco Polo. he and his father and uncle did things that people just 'did not do' in those times. They travelled to parts of the world that were dangerous and hidden. They saw things, marvelous things that the western world had never seen. They opened up a route of trade that enriched both the east and the west. But the catch is that no one really believed Marco when he returned from his travels.

Perhaps no one but ourselves will know how much we gave or tried as we approach the twilight of life, but there is one that understands. He is preparing for me a silk garment that will fit perfectly, and I cant wait.

The Silk Road

Light the candle and I will pen
A story of a journey and back again
A book of secrets dark and long
A pathway to the Kublai Khan

From Venice where my book begins
To Genoa where it will end
And juxtaposed between the two
Lies a road unknown but to a few

And I will tell a story bold
Follow me down the silk road
Of eastern nights and treasures untold
Follow me down the long silk road

I travelled over the great Japan
And to the islands of Andeman
From the coldest days I could endure
to the turquoise nights of Neyshabur

The things that I have done and seen
Now seem but long forgotten dreams
but the road that leads to eastern sod
is truer than the tales of Sheherazade.

The Sea Wolf

2008-08-06T20:25:00.005-05:00

So much of who I am really is very similiar to who she was. Musician, people person and friend, she was a light to the people that knew her. Her heritage is passed to me, and I must continue her musical legacy. Her other great-grandaughter, also a namesake, (Libby) has I think inherited a few musical genes as well.....but time will tell her gifts. We are all products of our heritage, whether we embrace that or not.

We recently went on a video shoot (our first!) for our Safe Harbour song. A fellow named Scott Self took us out on his handmade spanish wood boat. A sailboat. A work of art. A labor of love.

His heritage belongs to the sea, and the people that dwelled by the cliffs in England. Pressed into military service, they refused, and lived along the shoreline, fishermen and scavengers. They would mobilize for sea rescues, and were referred to as 'Sea Wolfs.' The Sea Wolfs sailed to America for a better life, and while settling in the Gulf coast city of Galveston, their surname was shortened to 'Self.' The last name of Self is the most common in that area. Our Captain that day, Scott Self, and the boat was called the "Sea Wolf."

The girls and I thought it appropriate that we write Scott a song, and dedicate it to the Sea Wolfs of the past, and the present. Our own ties to the sea provide a nice, fitting background for a tribute.

Sea wolf

Lend me your ear and I'll tell you my tale
Of my people from England whose eyes looked for sails
From Lands End to Portsmouth they looked to the seas
For wreckage to plunder; their hard lives to ease

Set sail, oh Seawolf, to lands far away
To a new port of call and a bright temperate day
This new land brings promise we never have known
a place to call our home

The journey was long and the waves were so high
But a new day of promise was fresh on their minds
Deciding to press on through the foam
They were trying to find a place to call home

So I hear them tonight on the sea
The voice of my people and time’s mystery
Saying ‘fly on the sea wolf, and claim our fame’
‘Remember our spirit, remember our name’

We will sail on the Seawolf to lands far away
To new ports of call, and bright temperate days
This new land brings promise we never have known
A place to call our home.
Copyright 2008 LeighAnn Heil

Scars and the Communion of Souls

2008-07-10T13:43:00.006-05:00

We just returned from a trip to dallas to see mermaid #3...fabulouso. I was so tired that I did nothing for 3 days afterward, but a beautiful trip non-the less.

Sometimes in the wee hours of the a.m., when the house is quiet, songs have a tendency to be written. So, at 6 a.m., when Hil couldnt sleep, she wrote the lyrics to a song, which of course I finessed and wrote music to in the afternoon.

We also spent lots of time in the pool, with syncronized swimming to weird music (Journey and I think there was a song by Skid Row) and lots of laughing. Over the weekend I noticed a scar on my face from the week before. I had put sunscreen on that was untested, and my super-sensitive skin reacted with a lovely burn. Now there was a bright red scar. Yuk.

I continued to think on scars over the weekend. Hilary was very ill when she was young, and in the process of healing she incurred some scars. In order for her life to be saved, the scars were a trade off.

Then, I thought about my own scars. The surgery scars I have. A scar that allowed my child to be born. The scars on my face from my car accident when I was 19. The miscellaneous scars on my hands from burns, cuts and insect bites. They are all there still, reminding me of bad times and good times. Scars are sort of the odometer of my life, recording all of the mileage for me.

But back to the song. The song title is "this communion of souls." Scars are universally a human condition. Rare is the person who has lived for 20, 30,40 years without some sort of scar. They are a something that we all can commune over. We all know the initial pain, the slow belabored healing, and the lingering reminder of the event. It is literally etched into our skin or on our hearts. Seen or unseen, scars are always there.

The word communion is also a word that I relate to worship. To Christ. I wonder why, the maker of heaven and earth, chose to retain the scars in His hands. I am sure that the Father, (or Jesus Himself) could have remedied those. Why not come back completely perfect? Why show Thomas those hands with the nail marks still in place? Could be many reasons, including the fact that the scars themselves gave testimony to the death and resurrection. Might have been to prove to the disciples that He was the Messiah. Might have been the badge of honor that Jesus decided to keep.

I really dont know the reasons, but it humbles me that Christ kept those scars. It means He was fully human and understands completely when I am knocked to the ground. It says to me "LeighAnn, you were worth every second of pain that these hands took for you." Or perhaps, like Hilary's scars, the scars are simply there to remind of how our lives are saved.

What a gift we have to bear with one another our scars and hurts, and what a blessing healing brings. Stiched across our hearts are the 3- silk sutures of friends, family, and a gracious God.

Communion of Souls

Let me tell you my secret
That’s been burning in my heart
With words so frail and broken
I don’t know where to start

But you are there to listen
As I offer up my soul
With caring words to comfort
And a hand for me to hold

Chorus:
This communion of souls
Is a rare gift to find
Friends connecting more than heart and mind
As life spins around me, I know you’ll be true
Cause I’m sharing my soul here with you

As life ebbs and flows
In my heart I will know
You’ll heal and you will mend
You’ll fight and you’ll defend

You read between the lines
To the places in my mind
Where few can go
Yet your words are never cold

Bridge:
If people stopped and tried
Could they have this gift we know?
This heaven here on earth
That strengthens as it grows

Chorus:
This communion of souls
Is a rare gift to find
Friends connecting more than heart and mind
As life spins around me, I know you’ll be true
Cause I’m sharing my soul here with you

SEAcrets

2008-07-01T20:48:00.005-05:00

It has been a while since I have had a chance to post. My computer went down and I was computer-less for a time, then got sick, then my son, Ryan had a birthday. Life works that way, ebbing and flowing.

Perhaps it is why I love the sea so much. High tide and low, the deep and the shallow. The very mysterious, huge, wonderful part of it all. Dangerous and beautiful. A force to be reckoned with, a joy to behold.

This Sunday we chanced to hear a sermon about Jonah. The sermon theme was rambling, but I think the main point was "embracing change." I dont really find that theme in Jonah...matter of a fact, I dont really understand what he was talking about at all. Looked over during the sermon to find my super husband asleep. (asleep in Jesus, he would say)

The Jonah story has always fascinated me with its' main setting being the sea. Jonah runs from God and takes a little cruise. Then the storm. It must have been a storm like no other, as the sailors on board the ship are praying, and praying hard. They have to wake Jonah up! (perhaps he was listening to the same sermon as my hubby...) Jonah admits it is him causing everything and they throw him overboard.

I have been in a riptide before, panicking about being swept out to sea. It is a terrifying feeling. What seemed beautiful and peaceful the moment before, suddenly becomes the scariest place on earth. I imagine Jonah praying, going under the waves, and God saves him. Not through the method Jonah would have preferred, I am sure. The fish is not a punishment, not a method to help Jonah "embrace change"...the fish is salvation.

I like to think that when we are living our lives, it is much like a long sail, a long journey on the sea. Full of beauty, full of peril. Beautiful times with red skies at night. Hard times with red skies in the morning. Through all the storms, God is there. Even when we choose to run from Him and choose our own way. He is still there. He is there when the wind is whipping and when we are thrown overboard. When we need Him most, He saves us, but not always in the way we want. I heard a song recently, and it reminded me of the sad event with Crystal's brother....Sometimes He calms the storm,

Sometimes He calms the storm,
With a whispered peace be still.
He can settle any sea, But it doesn’t mean He will
Sometimes He holds us close
And lets the wind and waves go wild
Sometimes He calms the storm
And other times He calms His child

And sometimes He just sends a fish.

Seacrets
copyright 2007, LeighAnn Heil
I am the star that rises from the sea
I bring men dreams, that rule their destiny.
I bring the dreamtides to the souls of men,
The tides that ebb and flow, and ebb again.

These are my seacrets they belong to me
The mystery of sirens, the seacrets of the sea
These are my seacrets, they will always be
The mystery of sirens the seacrets of the sea

I am the loralei low-a-down
With coral and with pearls, upon my starry crown.
I am the crystal stream that rises in the waves.
The mystery that haunts, the silent rocks and caves.

I am the song that lingers in the nightime air
When the moon has risen, over waves so fair
i am the long haired maiden with harp out on the sea
I am the siren singing, this is my mystery.

These are my seacrets, they will always be,
The mystery of sirens, the seacrets of the sea.

Seasons and the power of 4

2008-06-14T08:13:00.000-05:00

My shoulders are sunburned. We went swimming and while I managed to get sunscreen on the rest of me, I failed to get all of my back.

That said, I love summer. In fact,the change of seasons remains a masterful, wonderful happening . What a brilliant God we have! Just when we get so hot that we cant stand it anymore...our hands and feet are pruned from too much time in the swimming pool, relief. Fall comes, the leaves turn and we need jackets. The days get shorter and we look toward Christmas. Then the first snow falls and winter begins and you can see your breath. When we cannot take the cold, huddled in our homes, the trees bud and the grass starts growing again and my rosebush outside blooms.

The power of 4. 4 seasons. 4 winds. 4 compass points. 4 types of sentences. 4 types of volcanoes. 4 main characters in winnie the pooh. When you google '4 types' you even get the four types of barbeque. ( vinegar and pepper, mustard, light tomato and heavy tomato) I know, random.

I like that my band is 4. 4 types of people. 4 distinct personalities. 4 parts of the whole.

So what would we be, if we were the four seasons, four compass points, 4 types of sentences or 4 disney characters? Well, for entertainments' sake, I decided to try to peg us.

Let me start with Hilary. The intellect. Definitely winter for the season, as she wilts in the heat, and loves to huddle with books. I consider winter an introvert, that is definitely her. Cold and brooding, or as open and beautiful as a frozen winter landscape. As for the sentence, she is delclarative. Matter of fact and practical. Compass point would be North...see above comment about the winter. as for the winnie the pooh characters, i will have to think on it. I would say maybe she is more like Belle in Beauty and the beast. Or perhaps Moses as a biblical character. She is the only one besides Moses that could have written those books of law..and been humble and steadfast enough to not let it go to her head. Plus she loves being alone with God.

Now let me do Marla. The Spirit. Fall is the season. Full of color and even temperature. Not too hot, not too cold, just right. Comfortable and even in temperament. Compass point would be west, with a do-it-herself mindset...she has a great ability to work with her hands and figure out logistical problems. She would have made a great pioneer woman. For her sentence, she is an interrogative...always wanting to know about you, hesitant to talk about herself. Definitely Winnie the Pooh. She is also like Mary Poppins. If she were a bible character, she would be Ruth. Steadfast.

Now Rikie. The Heart or emotion. Definitely Spring. Full of beautiful rich color and friendly temperatures. Blooming like roses, Rikie has an ability with plants that I cannot fathom. They love her without reserve, as she also loves the people in her life. Like Spring, she has the power to drive the winter duldroms away...she makes Hil laugh! Her emotion is close to the surface...so she feels deeply both with hurt feelings and with intense love feelings as well. It is a great way to live. She is an imperative statement. Once she decides something, she will stick to it until it is completed. Compass point is south. Where you go for vacation, warm and inviting. Disney character would probably be Aurora from sleeping beauty, as she is happiest either at home or in the outdoors. (and she just looks like her...) As for bible character, she is Paul. Intellectual and driven, feeling deeply with a passion for people and Christ. She is also a great writer.

As for me, I am not sure, but I would probably peg myself as the blending of the three. Where the heart emotion and spirit collide. The expressive part of the four. Summer is me. Too intense at times, but very warm and open. Compass point is East, somewhat mysterious and a little exotic, sometimes people want to know about me, but dont want to know me. Much like the far east remains somewhat a mystery. Definitely exclamatory sentence. Like I said, too intense at times. Disney character is that candlestick off of beauty and the beast. or perhaps Esmerelda in the hunchback of notre dame. A little unorthodox. Too expressive. Too impulsive. Too much of a risk taker. Too much like Peter in the garden, cutting off the ear of that soldier before I consider the consequences.

So back to my first sentence. I am so glad that I have friends who 'have my back.' Otherwise I would spend all year with my shoulders burned. Thank God for His seasons. But I thank Him more for providing me with best friends that share my hurt and happiness. that keep me in check and push me to be better. Friends that keep my soul from getting as burned as my shoulders.

Call yourself blessed if you have a friend to put sunscreen on you. "We werent made to live this life alone." (beautiful thoughts from Hilary), so if you are sharing your life with friends, thank the Lord. He has been good.

Seasons
copyright 2004 LeighAnn Heil
I'm alone but never lonely
Like the seasons changing are we
Sometimes cold and sometime warm
sometime fair and sometime storm

When the winter spreads her blanket of white
When fall's golden leaves first give up their fight
When the summer sun sinks low in the sky
When springtime breezes blow

Nights are warm when shadows are long
And the summer sings its first song
when the sun rises high in the sky
Sitting in a shadow am I

Tell me when the morning breaks
In the dawn of may and spring
Take me through the long winter night
Let my spirit sing

Spread the dark of night over me
And in slumber I will be free
Free to roam and ramble within
Light as dust and free as the wind

I'm alone but never lonely
Like the seasons changing are we.

A Place To Run

2008-06-03T16:21:00.000-05:00

Today is GRATI-TUESDAY. An idea I got off of a blog of someone special that is no longer with us. I have decided that for the rest of June, I am going to only blog of things I am grateful about. Perhaps this will bring forth terribly maple-syrup-sappy-sentimental-songs. If it gives us all diabetes before I am done, then maybe I will think about changing course.

So here are a few things I am grateful for today.

Ryan went to his first day of camp today. It is just a morning thing, but it is sponsored by the place he gets therapy. As I was pulling up, a little girl (around 6 years old) with the sweetest smile on the planet, is getting out of her car, with her tiny pink walker.

I am grateful my child can walk run, tie his shoe and take his own showers.

I am grateful my child is able to learn and has social skills to where everyone that meets him, likes him.

I am grateful that my child will seek out and include children that do not have friends, and that even teachers notice his ability with other kids.

I am grateful my child is my child, so that he gets the help he needs to succeed in life.

I am grateful that I have a child, since I have known many women that long for a child and wait and pray, with the answer to that prayer being "no".

I am grateful that my child has a family that loves him. and I am grateful that he is a loving, sweet tempered child.

I am grateful that my child is mannerly, eats what is served him, works hard and helps people and rarely, EVER, complains.

I am grateful that I am a Christian and that I am commited to prayer, service and quiet time.

I am grateful that I have a wonderful husband, who cares about my happiness more than his own.

I am grateful for my parents, both for the hardworking example exhibited by my Dad (which I inherited and learned from him) and the dedication of my mother to our family.

I am grateful for my brother, who is probably the most honest, trustworthy person in the world. And he is a great Dad. And he picked the best, most even tempered lady for his mate...and she is a great mom to her kiddos. So grateful for both them and their kids.

I am grateful for the ability that I have been given to bring joy to people through music.

I am grateful for my mermaids, see the post below about 'home is where you are my friend'.

I have to go back to Ryan, though. It is exasperating at times to be a mom of a 'special needs' child. It will test you. It does test you. I believe God picks very strong women to handle the most special of those children. Ryan is that child, and I must be that woman.

I wrote this song over the weekend for Ryan. It echoes my sentiments about him in my unique way.

A Place To Run

If I could give you anything,
It would be bright cloudless skies
And paints to capture the colors
In a night of velvet stars

I would give you love and purpose
And a life filled with peace
I would give you a sense of direction
and a heart that sings.

I cant promise you fortune or glory
Or sweet days to walk in the sun
All I can give you is a hand to hold onto
And a place to run.

Some day your heart will be broken
someday somebody will let you down
But you will have the strength to stand
When that someday comes around…for

I cant promise your life will be perfect
Or that you will be free of pain
All I can give you is the promise
You always have shelter, when it looks like rain

I cant give you fortune or glory
Or sweet days to walk in the sun
All I can give is a hand to hold onto
And a place to run.
I’ll be a place to run
I’ll always be a place to run.

Photographs

2008-06-02T09:13:00.001-05:00

Last week, I stayed up too late. It always happens when Robert is gone, I get caught on the computer researching or surfing and before I know it, 1 a.m. has come and gone.

I discovered a site called pbase, through a friend. (mermaid number 3's husband) It is a photography site and the pictures are pretty remarkable. Her husband has gallery quality photos posted. Although I have been blessed with almost every other artistic talent, photography has always eluded me. There are very detailed images of flowers, close up pictures of instruments and exquisite shapes and colors. But the pictures I return to over and over are the people. The people I care about.

Often while traveling, I took pictures of landmarks and scenery. Most were just mediocre, some the scenery was stunning..but they rarely made it to the pages of any scrapbook. The ones that we keep, cherish, protect and pour over are people. The people that made a difference. Family members that are gone. Friends that live far away and that we long to see again. Snapshots and portraits that remind us of our babies, our youth. Robert and I laugh at our similar family photos with both of our dads wearing plaid leisure suits and those hideous black-coke-bottle glasses.

why do we seem to love photos so much? Why is scrap-booking so popular? It is a little piece of time we can hold in our hands. A visual representation of a memory. Photos are important because they are history, our history. A time machine in a turn of the page and a trip down the hall.

Photographs

I have a picture on the wall
In the foyer down the hall
And the faces there are smiling back at me

Family pictures, funny hair
Friends and memories waiting there
For me to travel back in time and see

And find my way back home
Through sepia and Kodachrome
And see the way that life use to be

All those faces and those names
Funny how the times have changed
But You will know as time goes by
You will be
With me on my wall of memory

I have a picture in a book
Just a snapshot that I took
When a little boy was only 3 days old.

Now he wants to drive the car
and throw fast balls in the yard
Jumping in before he even looks to see.

how to find His way back home
Through sepia and Kodachrome
And see the way his life use to be

all those faces and those names
Seems nothing remains the same
but he will know as time goes by, he will be
With me on my wall of memory.

There is a picture someone took
That is hanging on the hook
Of a younger girl with eyes that look like mine….

I’d like to go back there in time
Tell her, that life turns out just fine
Just be strong, hold onto love, and she will find.

Her way back home
Through sepia and Kodachrome
And see the way that life use to be
All those faces and those names,
Funny how life still feels the same
She will know as time goes by she will be
Living on the page of history….
Up there on that wall of memory.

Home is where you are, my friend

2008-05-26T18:23:00.000-05:00

Well the past couple of days have given me pause...pause to reflect on life, on God and on the fragility of time. Time is such a strange thing. When you are young, you cannot wait for time to pass. Minutes seems like a lifetime. School years last forever...summer cannot come quick enough. Then you get a bit older, and time seems to fly...one minute you are 17, the next you are 30. Your babies are tiny, then it seems the next minute they are in 3rd grade and are pitching fast balls to Dad in the backyard.

then there is the time spent with friends. I am so blessed. I have had the same 3 best friends for over 10 years. I have other friends...they are also very nice to have. But my 3, THE 3 are the ones that are the most important. The time with them seems short, but so sweet.

I wrote a song for them, several years ago....it expresses everything that happens when we get together. We sing, true. but we also talk, laugh, eat, pray and our souls commune.

but there are yet things unsaid...and I read something yesterday that prompted me to write these things I like about my friends.

13 things I like about mermaid #2

1. She is the smartest person I know.

2. She has a disciplined heart, and spirit, fully committed to God

3. She loves her cat and sometimes talks baby talk to him (funny!)

4. She will spend every Tuesday lunch delivering meals to homebound people

5. She recognizes most of my music references, even the obscure ones.

6. She is practical and purposeful (and an ankle-biter!)

7. She still laughs at the squawking seagull (caw!)

8. She is one of the most talented writers of lyrics I know, they are beautiful, thoughtful and crafted with loving care.

9. She will take large amounts of time and invest it in students that really need help

10. She is a wonderful daughter

11. She doesn't mind when I sing any song from Monty python, even if I have sung the song in the last 10 minutes before.

12. She has great rhythm and likes guitar

13. She is a special loyal friend.

13 things I love about mermaid #3

1. She is a wonderful mom.

2. She loves animals, but no longer talks baby talk to the big dogs..actually I don't think she ever did. Still loves animals, but would probably love them better if they didn't tear up her carpet.

3. She is organized and always gets lots of stuff done. She is also a great writer.

4. She makes mermaid #2 laugh during performances.

5. She is one of the most beautiful people I have ever known, but she is also one of the most down to earth.

6. She has good hair, but a great heart. and a brilliant mind.

7. 13 years ago she said "why don't you write some songs for us to sing?"

8. She loves the Lord and her family in a fierce, momma bear way (touch the family..draw back a nub, buddy)

9. She is a talented musician and singer.

10. She has the gift of hospitality in spades. you go to her home, you never want to leave!

11. She never shirks from acquiring a new skill. She has a infinite ability to absorb new knowledge.

12. People that know her love her. She is a great friend and very fun. She is unwaveringly loyal

13. She was the first person that offered to be my friend in Abilene.

Things I love about Mermaid #4

1. She is a wonderful mom.

2. She never has a bad word to say about anyone.

3. She has many creative gifts

4. She is fun.

5. She doesn't mind when Hil and I poke fun at her driving.

6. She is dedicated to service and has the unique ability to make kids feel special.

7. She is incredibly talented and incredibly humble.

8. She is easy going and welcoming.

9. She remembers all the hair band music from the 80's.

10. She has loved my child from the moment he was born.

11. She is a talented swimmer, musician, arranger and singer.

12. She loves the Lord and is dedicated to His service.

13. She is grounded and loving, and a special friend.

I hope that we all remember to say how many things we love about the people in our lives. If there is no tomorrow, I want to make sure they know.

Home is where you are my friend

Come and sit by the fire
And we will sing a song
come and warm your hands and we'll stay long
We will laugh about our old times, we'll only mourn a few
the laughs come so easy with you ...

Like the ocean breeze, blowing on my face
Like a warm smile or a welcome embrace
Like a roaring fire, near the winter's end
Home is where you are my friend

I will listen, I will mend
I will talk and will attend
I will sing and I will laugh with you
For friends we find are few

Though the road may take us, farther than we know
and our destiny is for life to show
Though we travel wide, and far we roam
In our hearts we will have a home.

Like the ocean breeze, blowing on my face
Like a warm smile or a welcome embrace
Like a roaring fire, near the winter's end
Home is where you are my friend

Winter Has Fallen

2008-05-25T22:08:00.000-05:00

What a funny title for a post when obviously, outside in Abilene Texas, it is 400 degrees with a nice western wind blowing all the dirt around. Winter is obviously not here.

As always, it is about the song...so here goes.

Today I am sad sad sad...more so than yesterday, as I have had a day and a half to process. My Sister in law lost her brother, Gary and his wife, Kim, in a tragic, terrible way. Normally I would say, "wow, I cannot imagine what they are going through!"

But right now, all I can think back to is January 2006 at 1 a.m., holding a 6 month old who no longer had a mom. Going to a funeral and weeping uncontrollably. Regrets of not writing, calling, visiting more often. Thinking of my other sister-in-law, Kari and what I did not do for her while she was alive. The aching sadness that goes with the loss, and with the regret

But the more I read about Kim and Gary, the more I smile. Lives that were given in service. Lives that meant something to not just their families but to friends and people they touched. A woman who truly knew what it meant to be a woman of Proverbs 31. Tributes on websites, and blogs and posts on newsreels. Lives lived with a purpose. Lives lived for the Lord.

And what is more, they had peace. They were happy in their marriage. They had good friends. They had hope for the future. They had God. They led simple lives of quiet service. They loved justice, loved mercy and walked humbly. They were going to celebrate the birth of their new nephew. They loved. They were loved.

I don't have the words to fix that terrible aching sadness. But thank God that He sent someone to break the bonds of death. I am so glad this is not all there is, and I will definitely be making up lost time when I see Kari again.
And, bonus...I will get to know Kim (and Gary) when I get there, too.

(this is possibly the saddest song I have ever written. But it expresses my feelings very well. )

Winter Has Fallen

Down by the river there's a willow tree
It weeps so gently love, for you and me
and its lay you down, my own sweet love
Winter has fallen and the night has come
And its lay down low, my love
Lay down low, my love.

Down on the river there's a swan in white
Gliding slowly through the fine twilight.
and its lay you down, my own sweet love
Winter has fallen and the night has come
And its lay down low, my love
Lay down low, my love.

Over the shadows and the lake so deep
The fair moon is rising from its lonely sleep
and its lay you down, my own sweet love
Winter has fallen and the night has come
And its lay down low, my love
Lay down low, my love.

Down in the valley in the nighttime sky
A stars a falling like a tear so bright
and its lay you down, my own sweet love
Winter has fallen and the night has come
And its lay down low, my love
Lay down low, my love.

Down by the oak tree, standing all alone
Two lovers are sleeping, in their beds of stone.

but its.... lay you down, my own sweet love
Winter has fallen and the night has come
Winter has fallen and the night has come
Winter has fallen and the night has come

Sing With The Wind

2008-05-05T21:50:00.000-05:00

As we complete our recording, and now that the pageant is over, I have been asking myself.."OK..now what?" I always have things in the works, projects or goals. But the last few days have been a little unclear of what direction to take. With all the uncertainty, it is sort of exciting in a strange way.

Life has had a way of bringing really exciting things around, both good and bad, in my life. Incredible highs and dizzying descents. Crazy and wonderful, life really is like my song 'the book', a cliffhanger read we just cant put down.

But I would also liken life to the wind. Try to predict where it goes and it will surprise you every time. There are so many different directions it could take. Struggle against the wind and lose.
I am just going to bend and go where it takes me.
It really is a sweet ride.

Sing With The Wind
copyright 2008 LeighAnn Heil
Couldn’t say where I am going today
Just letting the wind take me away
I don’t know when and what to pray
I’ll just sing with the wind while it’s blowing away.

What the future holds It is hard to say
I will travel the road as it leads on my way
To sea or mountain, wherever I stray….
I will walk with the road where it’s winding today

Sing with the wind
Calling your name
The wind is ever changing the songs’ never the same
Wisdom and power are out of our hands…
There are just some things we can’t understand….

Maybe there is coming a time
Where I will know the reason and the rhyme
Where an ordered dance will set my stage
And I will follow its lead and I will be on my way….

I cant say who I will meet
All I know is that life’s song is so sweet
And Whether fate uses chance or choice
I’m going to sing that song at the top of my voice

The time is now.

2008-05-01T12:32:00.000-05:00

As most of my friends know, my son, Ryan, suffers from something called sensory processing disorder. I went to my ARD meeting at his school yesterday, to see if he was eligible for special education and therapy. Unfortunately, SPD is not considered a disability, diagnosis or really anything in Texas or nationwide. In fact the people in the meeting (there were 5 there...all educators and diagnosticians) were very interested in SPD...since none of them knew anything about it. I was pretty excited, some educators that I can enlighten! ....5 down and around 250,000 to go in TEXAS! (ok that number is a LITTLE high...but maybe 25000 might be more like it!)

My Ryan is possibly the sweetest kid on the planet...and it breaks my heart to know that other kids are suffering and labeled as bored, lazy, ADHD, and bi-polar. Without therapy intervention early, they will fail, and fall through the cracks of society. Please support the SPD foundation, as they provide more research and signatures to the medical board. Make SPD a recognized diagnosis this year! www.kidfoundation.org

I am currently writing a song which will be dedicated to kids with SPD. the song is "what if the time is now?" Right now, all I have is the idea and the chorus. But it is powerful when you think that we must act on our convictions, on our cause and we must not wait....there is a goal sheet in my husbands office, the top of the list has these words.

'the fierce urgency of now'

There are no guarantees of tomorrow or even the next moment.
Help by signing the petition to make SPD a recognized diagnosis/disability.

http://www.kidfoundation.org/advocacy/petition.php

What if the Time is Now

chorus:
What if the time is now
what if the moment is right
what if all the answers are right before our eyes
what if we took the chance and let faith guide the way?
What if the time is now?
what if the day is today?

Breathe In Breathe Out

2008-04-28T17:02:00.001-05:00

I just returned last night from the Mrs. Texas United States pageant. I really had a great weekend, and although I did not win, I would not change anything I did. Robert said that I was extremely elegant and beautiful. Ryan kept looking at my ad page...it said "to Ryan, I love you!" He was proud he was in the program and that I mentioned him in my intro. Ryan said "Mommy, I am sorry you didn't win....I would have voted for you!" I told him that being his Mom made me a winner every day.

I was disappointed last night, but Robert told me that I was one of the few that actually followed through with doing exciting things in life. He said that people always say "I'd like to do that" but that I actually do the big things. When you risk big, sometimes you lose big....but higher stakes also mean higher payoffs.

today I am tired, but my soul is ready to risk.

Breathe in breathe out...move on.

Breathe In, Breathe Out
copyright 2008 LeighAnn Heil

After the fall is over
And the night has gone away
The morning will bring you
A clearer vision, and a brand new day if you just

Breathe in, breathe out
Take a little time, and let your feelings out
Cast all your cares, to the evening wind and
Just breathe out, then breathe in….

Wearing your heart on your sleeve,
Has to be hard all on your own,
You’ve got your worries
You can talk to me, I’m in no hurry …at all

Like the winter snows melting
And the rivers running like rain
Living with your soul wide open
Finding the strength to begin again…if you just

I have heard it said
A journey begins with a step
I see yours beginning
With just a single breath….

Breathe in, breathe out
Take a little time, and let your feelings out
Cast all your cares, to the evening wind and
Just breathe out, then breathe in, again.

Ocean Child

2008-04-22T22:14:00.000-05:00

Picture of my Ryan guy...

Sirens' Song at Erinshire At The Gap music festival

It has been a busy week. I am Mrs. Abilene United States, and the Mrs. Texas pageant is this weekend. In addition to all the pageant prep, Sirens' Song had a gig this weekend. We recorded in the studio Friday and Sunday. Fun, but exhausting. We finished vocals this weekend on many songs, which is nice.

I am also working with the SPD foundation, trying to get info from them for press releases, sending photos and working on the song for the foundation. Whew...sometimes I wonder how I fit everything in..Ryan still must be taught, cared for, and soothed.

Ryan and I ran some errands this afternoon, he was singing, loudly, with the recordings we made over the weekend. He said "Mom, I like your songs!" It was so great..in the midst of chaos, the child soothed the mom. He really does give me so much peace in so many ways.

The first song we listened to was this one, Ocean Child. I took the first part of this song from a poem in the 1700's. The times have changed, but beautiful poetry, and music, stays the same.

Ocean Child
copyright 2008 LeighAnn Heil
The waves are white and red the morn,
In the noisy hour, when I was born
And the whale it whistled, the porpoise rolled,..
And dolphins bared there backs of gold

And never was heard such an outcry wild
As welcomed to life, the ocean child.

The sea, the sea, the open sea!
The blue, the fresh, the ever free...
Without a mark, without a bound
It runneth the earth's wild regions round...

Out where the winds are strong and wild
There comes to life, the ocean child.

I'm on the sea, I'm on the sea!
I am where I would ever be
With blue above, and blue below....
and silence wherever I go...

When every mad wave drowns the moon,
Or whistles aloft, its tempest tune..
If a storm should come and wake the deep...
On wings of foam, I'll ride and sleep...

Unbounded sea, strong and wild...
Will welcome me still, the ocean child
The ocean child.

listen to OCEAN CHILD at http://sirenssing.com/hostbaby/merge?stage=music&substage=6

To The Sea

2008-04-17T18:33:00.000-05:00

Tonight Tolkiens' Lord of the Rings movie is on TV. Hilary and I went to see all three movies at the theatre, but they are so good I normally watch them again. The only thing missing in the movies, besides some of the story they could not pack into 3 hours...is the music, the poetry. So much of what makes the story is the poetry. Most are long, troubadour style, telling a story. I love those old poems. They make any story richer, and remind of us a day when there were not unlimited text messages. When language was king and stories were written in rhyme. When books were rare and not easy to access.

I love writing story songs. They are so fun to write. You must be brief, beautiful and descriptive. You must allude but not reveal. You must let your listener think for themselves.

This is a beautiful song referring to the elves and their longing for the sea. The sea for them meant the afterlife, so the song takes on a very wistful, mystical mood. Not really knowing what to expect, they only know where they are going.

To The Sea
copyright 2008 LeighAnn Heil
Based on 'Lord of the Rings' by J.R.R. Tolkien

Sweep the sky from the sun's first dawning
Hear the cry in a winter morning
Catch the echo from the long lochs walls
And feel the chill of those lonely calls..

To the Sea! To the Sea! the white gulls crying...
The wind it is blowing and the white foam flying
West! West, away! the round sun is falling
Gray ship, gray ship, do you hear them calling...

For our days are ending, and our years are failing...
I will pass wide water, Lonely sailing....

The road goes ever on and on..
Now far ahead the road has gone
Out from the door where it began
Let others follow it who can

To the Sea! To the Sea! the white gulls crying...
The wind it is blowing and the white foam flying
West! West, away! the round sun is falling
Gray ship, gray ship, do you hear them calling...

For our days are ending, and our years are failing...
I will pass wide water, Lonely sailing....

Still round the corner there may wait..
A new road or a secret gate
though often I have passed them by...
A day will come at last when I ....

Shall take the hidden paths that run
West of the moon, east of the sun
In that far land beneath the trees
The starlight on the western seas.....

and long are the waves on the lost shore falling
sweet are the voices of the lost isle calling....

To the Sea! To the Sea! the white gulls crying...
The wind it is blowing and the white foam flying
West! West, away! the round sun is falling
Gray ship, gray ship, do you hear them calling...

For our days are ending, and our years are failing...
I will pass wide water, Lonely sailing....

Compass

2008-04-13T19:57:00.000-05:00

My husband, Robert, is going on a business trip tomorrow, for a week. He travels more now than he used to, which he actually likes. I have always been very comfortable on my own, so Ryan and I hang out while Robert is gone. But there are those times in the week that I think how lucky we are that it is only a week away, not months or years. And of course I miss him and am very glad to have him home again when he returns.

Last year we sent copies of our cd's to the American soldiers in Iraq. I often thought about how it must be to be the family left behind, never knowing what was going to happen to your husband or wife.

Love really does pull us together, even when we are apart we can find our bearings and the direction of home. The imagery of a compass fits perfectly into the space between ourself and the one we love.

Compass
copyright 2008 Hilary Walton and LeighAnn Heil
Don't cry my love, as I prepare to go
For the love that I give no other will know.
Though our bodies feel distance, our souls move as one
And to you I'll return when my journey is done...

My compass down this long dusty road
A beacon that leads me to the home that I know
Our love will not break though the distance be long
For you are in my spirit, my heart, and my song.

Silently, now I will be on my way
But know in your heart that I will never stray
Your steadfast spirit links me to you
One soul one heart, made of the two

While I am away, you will be here with me
For our souls span the distance as I sail the wide sea.
Be strong, my love, for your strength keeps me true
And to you I'll return when my journey is through...

My compass down this long dusty road
A beacon that leads me to the home that I know
Our love will not break though the distance be long
For you are in my spirit, my heart, and my song.

listen to COMPASS at
http://sirenssing.com/hostbaby/merge?stage=music&substage=1

Monarch

2008-04-10T20:14:00.000-05:00

I had someone ask me once why I was writing music. I had to take a step back and really think. Why? For a while I was stumped. The answer is that someone, sometime, suggested it and believed that I could. After that, I believed it myself.

This morning we were working on math, which my son, Ryan really struggles with. He was doing well, and had a surprised look on his face as he finished every problem correctly. I thought about those times when he tried and failed to do the problems, and the times when I insisted that he try again. The times when he wanted to say 'I can't', but said 'I can' instead.

Watching the light dawn inside a little mind is a powerful thing. Much like a caterpillar must feel when emerging from the cocoon. A new day is here
Rise with the Monarchs.

Monarch
copyright 2008
Come and take my hand
Run through the forest with me
Feel the wind rushing through the trees
Running to the sea

From where I stand
We could finally be
Light as the air, free as a bird
Spirits of the Sea

We are riding over the water
We are burning into the night
We are flying up like the monarchs
Rising in the eastern sky

Come and take my hand
Climb the mountains with me
Listen to the water flowing
Flowing to the sea

Rivers of crystal blue
Oceans of flowers in bloom
Nights so clear, and so cold
Under the winter moon

Come and take my hand
Swim the ocean with me
Dive deep, into my heart
Deeper than the sea....

We are riding over the water
We are burning into the night
We are flying up like the monarchs
Rising in the eastern sky

listen to MONARCH at http://sirenssing.com/hostbaby/merge?stage=music&substage=3

Chambers of The Sea

2008-03-30T19:33:00.000-05:00

A few nights ago, I took Ryan (my son who is 8) to see the show CATS. I love the poetry of T.S. Elliot that the show is based on. So funny and clever, it fits perfectly into the music and high energy dances. Ryan, of course, loved it, and now sings "a cat so clever as magical Mr. Mistoffelees" around the house.

But T.S. Elliot also wrote "I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each. I do not think that they will sing to me." From "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock". Melancholy and incredibly sad, so very different from his 'book of practical cats.'

I found myself returning to that one line, "I have heard the mermaids singing", particularly since our band takes its name from Sirens, or mermaids. In fact, my husband often refers to all of us as "the mermaids." I took the line and changed it to fit a new song, and our group.

Chambers of The Sea
copyright 2008 LeighAnn Heil
When the earthly no longer knows my name
I will whisper to the silent earth.
I am flowing to the flashing water
To the place of my birth

For I have heard the mermaids singing
And I think they sing to me
I have seen them slowly riding sea-ward
Lingering in chambers of the sea

When the night birds, call and conquer
When the moon is in her sky,
I am flowing to the flashing water
Comb the silver waves so high

When the sea is above me
while its waves they roar and whirl
There will be a ceiling of amber
And a pavement of shining pearl

When the night wind, starts to rise
And the sun has turned to red
I am flowing to the flashing water
With the ocean for my bed

For I have heard the mermaids singing
and I think they sing to me
I have seen them slowly riding seaward
Lingering in chambers of the sea
Lingering in chambers of the sea

listen to CHAMBERS OF THE SEA at http://sirenssing.com/hostbaby/merge?stage=music&substage=5

Gypsy soul

2008-03-30T00:20:00.000-05:00

When I was a girl I wanted to grow up to be a princess. Then I actually grew up, and realized I had more in common with the gypsies. I love travel, new places, freedom, music and dance. Perhaps it is my look, which is very Mediterranean. Perhaps it is my soul that has to have an occasional song and dance around the fire.

Back when I was in my 20's I sang in Seville, Spain. We went down to the coast at Cadiz, when friends and I decided to spend the night on the beach. All around us were gypsy camps...playing instruments and singing at the top of their lungs until 3 a.m. Bonfires and music and the moon waxing full created a very vivid memory for me. So of course, years later, a song came unannounced.

Gypsy Soul
copyright 2007 LeighAnn Heil

Red dirt road all before me, Following the caravan
I will travel over mountains, Nothing in my pockets, nothing in my hands.

I will dance before the fire, as the flames are rising high
I will play a gypsy chorus, Singing to the night air, singing to the sky.

See the wind travel through me, See the waves around me roll
Hear the music verse and chorus, Hear it in my gypsy soul

Feel the earth bow before me, Feel the rhythm of the night
Dancing, dancing, ever singing, Gypsy till the day I die.

Sands are ever melting onward, As the road moves ever free
Caravans are moving moving,
Leading to the shoreline, Leading to the sea.

The night air is warm around me, I can feel the desert rise
Tambourines and Balalaikas, Singing to the purple skies

Andalusia all around me, wind is moving through the trees
I will ride over the forest, Drum like hoof-beats under me

the night cloak is warm about me, Covers me within its train
Tapestries of stars and moonbeams, Sleeping on the Spanish plain.

See the wind travel through me, See the waves around me roll
Hear the music verse and chorus, Hear it in my gypsy soul

Feel the earth bow before me, Feel the rhythm of the night
Dancing, dancing, ever singing, Gypsy till the day I die.

listen at
http://sirenssing.com/hostbaby/merge?stage=music&substage=4

The Book

2008-03-28T15:11:00.000-05:00

This past Christmas, Hilary asked for Books. Not a surprise. She loves them. They fill her bedroom, her house and flow from one room into the next. Go to Rikie's house, and they line her massive built in bookshelves, and are in every room and every closet. And then there is Marla. Marla not only has enormous quantities of books at her house, but can also either get or recommend others to you due to her vocation as a librarian! Of course, I have always loved books. They are how I have learned most everything of consequence in my life.

I think we like books so much because our lives are so much like books. Chapters open and close. Characters come and go. Conflict, sadness, grief and tragedy line the pages, along with descriptions, places and wonderful news. There are scary chapters, beautiful chapters, love-story chapters, chapters of exotic locations, and chapters about your children. Chapters that you are entirely glad to close, and chapters you wish would never end. We write that book throughout our days, weeks, months, and years.

Perhaps the story ends happily, but really.... if you have already read it, don't spoil it for me.
I don't want to know the ending.

The Book
copyright 2008, LeighAnn Heil

I got a book up on a shelf
A book I have written by myself
Its full of love and tragedy
Just don’t tell the end to me

I got a book I love to read
Full of all life’s mysteries
Like bedtime stories and wedding days
First steps and bikes and kids at play

I got a book with chapters dark
Night time shadows and scary parts
Happy endings shared with friends
I just don’t want to know the end

I got a book, a story to tell
I wrote it long and wrote it well
Trying to keep up as the years go by
Writing as fast as my fingers can fly…
don’t tell the end to me

We all have a book we have to write
Full of all our days and all our nights
The words record our lives, you see
Just don’t tell the end to me
No don’t tell the end to me.

We got a book, a story to tell
Write it long and write it well..
Try to keep up as the years go by,
Writing just as fast as our fingers can fly

We all have a book we have to write
Full of all our days and all our nights
We write just exactly what we want it to be…
Just don’t tell the end to me, no don’t tell the end to me.

listen to THE BOOK at
http://sirenssing.com/hostbaby/merge?stage=music&substage=2

Ribbon on the Package

2008-03-27T09:40:00.000-05:00

As a long distance band, we have to do rehearsing in pieces, here and there when we can. The rehearsals are somewhat satisfying, much like a gift that has been beautifully wrapped. But there is something about a beautiful gift that is made perfect by the bow. Extravagant wired ribbon, with gold and cream, lifts the package from a 'thanks so much' to an 'oh, my!' Which do we rather eat...cake without frosting or a fondant artistic creation with frosted grapes? Nothing lifts the ordinary into sublime like the ribbon on a package.

The times we sing together are special, but the times when all four of us are in the same room, singing and playing and laughing are the best. Marla and Hilary and I are together most, and it is special. But when we add Rikie, (the ribbon on the package)....magic.

Siren, Sing The Light
copyright 2008, LeighAnn Heil

I have roamed over fields of golden wheat
And traveled through valleys deep
I have journeyed long and seen the strong
Misty Mountains with snowy peaks.

I have been in temples across the earth
In the land of the rising sun
I have seen the moon washed with gold
And the stars with silver spun

Chorus
But there’s a song that haunts all of my dreams
And wakens me in the night
And it sings to me, out over the sea
Siren, sing the light.

I have seen the place where life began
And the drums with their refrain
I have seen the desert with sands like seas
And the summers melting with rain

I have stood in the portals of history
And gathered the sands of time
But the same sweet song calls out to me
Calling with tones, sublime

Moon Song

2008-03-26T09:57:00.000-05:00

When collaborating with another person to write a song, something really wonderful happens to the two of you. You both present your souls, they interweave. It is a very powerful communion.

Hilary and I have been collaborating for years, I tease her about her word-wizard ability, but it really is remarkable. She wrote a poem based on a book "the gift." It is a story of a girl who lives by the sea, and longs to hear the whales sing. Her grandmother tells her to give the whales a gift and she will get her wish. She goes down to the sea and drops a flower in the deep...and that night she hears the whales call her name.

It actually made me think of the quote by Winston Churchill, 'make a living by what you get, make a life by what you give.' So I believe I will. Give, that is. In fact, I think I hear whales calling my name......

Moon Song
words and music by LeighAnn Heil and Hilary Walton
copyright 2008 Heil/Walton

Come here to me and listen a while
To my tale of the creatures from a far away isle..
They come when we offer a gift to the sea
And for years they came, and they sang to me...

It was a moon song, high and long
A moon song, sad and strong
The whales are singing in the silent night..
Whales are singing, by the bright moon-light

If the gift you offer, brings joy to their hearts,
They will come and they will find you, in the peace of the dark
Then voices will call you from out of your sleep
And like a siren they will lure you, to the ocean deep

With a moon song, high and long
a moon song, sad and strong
The whales are singing in the silent night..
Whales are singing, by the bright moon-light

I listened to the whales of the deep
And offered my gift while you were fast asleep
And now they are calling all out on the sea..
Their song it is singing, for you and for me...

With a moon song, high and long
a moon song, sad and strong
The whales are singing in the silent night..
Whales are singing, by the bright moon-light.

http://sirenssing.com/hostbaby/merge?stage=music&substage=8

Home

2008-03-24T13:08:00.000-05:00

Several months ago I wrote a song and sent it to the band. While Hilary couldn't open the wave file on her mac book...Rikie and Marla opened the song and listened to it. There was a tepid response to the song, so I shelved it.

I played it again for them this past month, and they fell it love with it. They said "why aren't we working on that?" My response was "I thought it wasn't any good."

Home is something I took for granted when I was younger, in fact, I couldn't wait to get out on my own. I didn't fully appreciate how truly special it was. Fortunately my memory made a recording of all those days as a child. The song is so much sweeter since I am older, with my own family, and my own home.
Now whenever I want to remember,
I just push play.

Home
copyright 2008, LeighAnn Heil

Something familiar calls to me
Daughters of the deep blue sea
I'm going home, I'm going home

Tell Poseidon I'm on my way
Sailing out at the break of day
I'm going home, I'm going home

I'm going home...forever will I roam
Sailing out on silver wings, Where my heart leaps and my spirit sings
Out on the sea...I'm going home.

Salty spray and the clear night air
Sailing with wind in my hair,
I'm going home, I'm going home

Take me out to the ocean deep
The place to where my spirit keeps,
Its on the sea...I'm going home

sea mist gathers on my skin
Sails unfurled out in the wind...on the sea
I'm going home.

I'm going home...forever will I roam
Sailing out on silver wings, Where my heart leaps and my spirit sings
Out on the sea...I'm going home.

Time for a change.

2008-03-23T17:42:00.001-05:00

Yesterday, it was bright and hot outside. Granted it is bright and warm much of the winter in Abilene, but it was a brighter bright yesterday. It hurt your eyes. Different than the gray light of the winter. Spring is definitely coming.

I love seasons, (wrote a song about them, you know!) so I am pretty pumped when they change. The last few months have been filled with change, but for the better or worse time has yet to tell.

The songs I have written recently have been pretty introspective, less about events in history, less story songs, less about far-away lands. This last song is a very positive song about change.

New Day
copyright 2008, LeighAnn Heil

The moon going down, the stars are starting to fall
The sun is rising in the sky like a big red ball
Something is a-coming and a-blowin’ on the wind
The new day is here, its about to begin…

And I can’t say where the wind will lead
Whether riding over land or sailing on the sea
Feel the change coming with the sun’s first ray
it’s a brand new day

The night was dark, with a brand new moon
Everything just seemed so out of tune
But there’s a new song coming and its startin’ to rise
Calling from the sea, singing to the skies

Tomorrow is miles and miles away,
So we gotta start livin and lovin today
Gonna take away our worries, and take away our doubts.
When you open up the windows…see the sun coming out.