Delighted to have finished setting my daughter’s ravishing and ravaged poem BONES AND ALL for soprano, trumpet, english horn, percussion, harp and strings. This 30 minute work moves from still and dark to animated and expressive and back again. I am very happy to have it completed!
BONES AND ALL
I tend to the land grief
It started as barren and broken waste,
So I watered it.
The water and salt of tears only grew grass, wild and
unruly, not quite living.
On the precipice of this waste were trees; tall, dark, and
They sent you.
You were a sparrow, fragile and small
You came wrapped in barbed wire and grime cloaked in
scent of ruin. I untethered you, stitched up your wounds with blood
soaked fingers, and fattened you up then returned you
to the wood. The world had not been kind to you,
I thought this would be enough.
The grass sprouted flowers, blooming with vengeance,
and in them found another.
The rotting carcass, burnt and branded by the world, its
flesh, ripped from its bones held together by mere strings
of muscle. I imagine you alive, sturdy, clever, and striped.
Wearing your bandit mask properly—not skewed as it is
now—playing a violin.
I reconstruct you, slowly, heart first, on woven blankets
from grass. I cover your torn body with
flowers. I tuck your legs, hiding your shattered feet,
hiding your ripped neck, laying your head down.
You look almost asleep but I know this is never
I have buried so many in this wasteland;
Each one stays frozen in place, exactly where I left them.
Later they come for me, gathered in the rainforest of my
mind we sit together eating tropical fruits, shrouded by
sunlight, a greenish-golden glow bouncing off my skin
and refracting off their exposed bones.
They cannot be touched here, things are clean, soft.
We are loved by the sun, bones and all.