Friends
(phyllis cole-dai)
Composed for two dear souls, Geoff Seltzer and Katie Reed, as together we lived Geoff's dying of cancer.
Just This
(phyllis cole-dai)
November 30, 2005
A love song for the world, just as it is.
River of Wings
(phyllis cole-Dai)
Inspired by the spectacle of thousands of snow geese winging northward in spring migration.
Green Light of Summer
(phyllis cole-dai)
November 30, 2005
Our son Nathan provided the inspiration for this piece, uttering the title phrase during the cold dark of his third winter.
Slice of Pie
(phyllis cole-dai)
Just a slice of fun.
Til Spring
(phyllis cole-dai)
November 30, 2005
Brought to you by the winters of South Dakota. The lyrics (below) aren't performed on this solo piano album.
Outside the window
a few last leaves comin' down,
and a wind that sounds like winter
is blowin' 'em all around.
Lay a fire on the hearth,
put a kettle on for tea;
light a candle in the window,
set a child you love upon your knee.
Yes, we're warm and loved
and ready for snow;
we can take the wind,
we can take the blow.
Winter is hard,
but I'm sure you know,
a little love is all we need
to brave the cold til spring.
Outside the window
a few last flakes comin' down,
and a breeze that feels like springtime
is blowin' 'em all around.
Flexible Flyer
(phyllis cole-dai)
November 30, 2005
Inspired by our family's walks on summer evenings, Nathan riding in his little red wagon, his "Flexible Flyer."
Shape of Silence
(phyllis cole-dai)
November 30, 2005
Suggests how central the indwelling of silence can be to the mindful living of life. I invite you to rest in the moments of quiet built into the piece.
Lament for the Child Soldier
(phyllis cole-dai)
November 30, 2005
Grieves the loss of innocence and life among the 300,000 child soldiers now fighting in armed conflicts in more than 30 countries. It's also a lament for every person, of whatever age, who is made a sacrifice to war.
Disappearing Sea
(phyllis cole-dai)
November 30, 2005
A response to the tsunamis that struck 13 countries on December 26, 2004. The title refers to how the first tsunami waves, just before striking land, sucked the ocean back from the coastline, exposing seabed. For people on shore, this "disappearing sea" may have been the only warning of impending disaster. Sadly, then, the title also refers to the sea of humanity that disappeared on December 26.
Yet the story of the tsunamis ends not with death but with endless compassion, with human beings reaching out to ease the suffering of other human beings. So, finally, the title refers to the great oneness of humanity. The seas that we usually think of as separating, even insulating, nations and peoples can disappear when we allow ourselves to acknowledge all that we hold in common with one another; to acknowledge that all of us spring from the same source, whatever name we might call it by.
Looking for New Orleans
(phyllis cole-dai)
November 30, 2005
Written for the people along the Gulf Coast whose lives were forever changed by the hurricanes and floods of 2005.
Ascension
(phyllis cole-dai)
November 30, 2005
Inspired by a powerful nighttime dream in which all of humanity united in genuine commitment to spiritual and social transformation. As together we struggled to embody our deepest potentials, the earth itself ascended to a higher plane of existence.
Letter to a Young Poet
(phyllis cole-dai)
November 30, 2005
Draws upon my favorite passage from Rainer Maria Rilke's Letters to a Young Poet: "Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart... try to love the questions themselves like locked rooms and like books that are written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them.... Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer." (Dedicated to my friend Jeanette Brodersen.)
And So
(phyllis cole-dai)
November 30, 2005
Celebrates the life of David Citino, a poet and friend who did serious work without taking himself too seriously. The message informing me of his sudden death in middle age included lines from his poem "And So."
