Earlier this fall I got it into my head that I was going to pen a Christmas carol. Whenever I try to write music, I don't like to think of it as a big masterpiece just waiting to be brought to life. Of course, I'm human, so that's usually where my mind goes, but usually I end up humbling myself through the time consuming process of pairing words with melodies and harmonies, something that takes just as much quiet contemplation and reflection as it does writing and erasing and plunking out notes. I like to write things I can share with friends and family, something for us to sing together. Masterpiece doesn't matter.
Now it's December 22nd, and the carol is nowhere near being finished--but that's ok.
Lately I've been thinking about the text I'm using. It's a poem by Madeleine L'engle called "The Glory."
Without any rhyme
without any reason
my heart lifts to light
in this bleak season
Believer and wanderer
caught by salvation
stumbler and blunderer
into Creation
In this cold blight
where marrow is frozen
it is God’s time
my heart has chosen
In paradox and story
parable and laughter
find I the glory
here in hereafter.
What strikes me most is the second line of the second stanza. As I read it, I can hear the voice of my Intro to Writing professor last spring saying, "Use strong language! Use those verbs!" Caught by salvation. Not given, not granted, but caught. I'm a wordy person who enjoys these little particulars. It makes me think of a nervous tightrope walker losing balance, then falling into the net below. These words sound joyous without being sugary. Just plain, straight clarity. I know we still have one more Sunday of Advent--of waiting in the darkness--and with the horrible killings in Newtown last week the dark feeling won't automatically be lifted from us come Christmas. But, there is goodness. Dark times can be remedied, Professor Dumbledore said, "if one only remembers to turn on the light." The net catches us tightrope walkers. We can at least give thanks for that.
