orn-i-tho-lo-gie
orn-i-tho-lo-gie is a compilation of songs inspired by and about birds. It was produced for a fundraiser concert for Great Salt Lake Audubon, first presented 11-11-11 at Holladay United Church of Christ. It was a lovely concert, featuring the talents of Kate MacLeod, Peter and Mary Danzig, and Mike Bolz.
In the audience that evening was a descendant of Emily Dickinson, who was delighted to hear Hope is the Thing with Feathers set to music. An unexpected surprise.
I was so tickled to bring these songs to a public who is also inspired by our feathered friends. Thanks to GLSA and its devoted team of volunteers, especially the event planning committee, Bruce for his capable and friendly emceeing, Kate, Peter, Mary, and Mike for giving the musical arrangements wings, and to John and Winston for their support on sound.
Following are the lyrics to the songs on the CD.
In the audience that evening was a descendant of Emily Dickinson, who was delighted to hear Hope is the Thing with Feathers set to music. An unexpected surprise.
I was so tickled to bring these songs to a public who is also inspired by our feathered friends. Thanks to GLSA and its devoted team of volunteers, especially the event planning committee, Bruce for his capable and friendly emceeing, Kate, Peter, Mary, and Mike for giving the musical arrangements wings, and to John and Winston for their support on sound.
Following are the lyrics to the songs on the CD.
Hope is the Thing with Feathers
(poem by Emily Dickinson, music by Jen Hajj) Hope is the thing with feathers That perches in the soul And sings the tune without the words And never stops at all And sweetest in the gale is heard And sore must be the storm That would abash that little bird That kept so many warm I've heard it in the chilliest land And on the strangest sea Yet never in extremity It asked a crumb of me. I've always loved this poem, ever since the first time I read it. I remember where I was. I was working at a zoo for birds, a job I had taken as a willful rebellion against Corporate America. "See, you terrible, greedy monsters! I can work for next to nothing, and I can enjoy it, too!" In this poem, Dickinson really captured the spirit of hope, with what I think of as a perfect description of birds. They bring us so much, they sing in the strangest of places, and they ask nothing of us. I opened the piece with a recording of real bird song, what is sometimes called the "morning chorus." Why do birds wake up singing? Because they can.
| Raven
(words and music by Jen Hajj) Oh Raven, what you done I long to see you but you're gone The wind has wrapped you in its wings And taken you to finer things Taken you away. Oh Raven, where you gone I long to hear you greet the morn The raucous cadence of your song Commands the hillsides loud and strong But you've gone away Oh Raven, I still yearn Shall I wait for your return Or should I see another one To warm my side when day is done Since you've gone away A song about loneliness, and how we sometimes choose partners for the wrong reasons.
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Hawk, You are My Brother
(words and music by Jen Hajj, inspired by Hawk, I'm Your Brother, by Byrd Baylor, a children's book. Used with permission.) Hawk, You are my Brother Hawk, You are my Brother I dream of flying Wrapped up in the wind I'm not like a sparrow, I'm not like a cactus wren I wanna be like you I wanna be in your world It's my only wish to rise up to the sun on powerful wings It's my only wish and I won't give it up for something easier I wanna fly with you. Fly away with you. Over your world. Hawk, You are my Brother Hawk, You are my Brother When do I learn to fly I need to fly I know somebody ought to Somebody like me Why am I stuck down here I wanna be in your world If I stole you and I made you stay, would you forgive me in time If I fed you, tied a string to your leg, would you show me to fly And let me fly with you Fly away with you Over your world. But you know it's not right, you're meant to be free You scream to your brothers high in the canyon It's the same every day, you yearn for the wind, not the sand You wanna fly with them Fly away with them Out of my world. Hawk you are my Brother Hawk you are my Brother Someday we'll fly together Aren't you happy with me? I know what it is to want to fly I have that dream too I cannot hold you. One of us might as well fly So I climb the red rocks and untie the string and I let you go As you rise to the sun on your powerful wings In my mind, I'm flying too. And now I fly with you Fly away with you Over our world Hawk, you are my brother. I first found the book, Hawk, I'm Your Brother, by Byrd Baylor, at my workplace. I discounted it, mostly because I wasn't drawn in by the illustrations (I've come to appreciate them now). When I finally read it, I was moved to tears by the story of the boy who, wanting to fly, steals a hawk from a nest and learns valuable life lessons.
| Sometimes I Feel
(traditional, additional words by Jen Hajj) Sometimes I feel like a moanin dove Hang my head and cry Sometimes I feel like an eagle in the air Spread my wings and fly Sometimes I feel like a bird I wanna fly Pretty little thing I wanna spread my wings and touch the sky I wanna sing Sometimes I feel like singing Sometimes I feel like a mocking bird No song of my own Sometimes I feel like I got no home Like a bird that's flown I learned "Sometimes I Feel Like A Motherless Child" in choir back in High School, and have always loved this traditional Negro Spiritual. I loved the bird images in the song, but felt the theme was not carried through completely. I've added my own flavor to the song.
The Eagles of the Old Iron Mine
(words and music by Jen Hajj. Additional words by Mike Bolz) In the corner of the Utah desert a pair of eagles fly Making lazy circles in the sky Their presence almost holy brings a teardrop to my eye Just to see the golden eagles of the old iron mine I come to watch them touch the sky Heal my heart and lift my eyes And carry all my prayers into heaven The summer of 07 started as a banner year The drought gave way to hillsides lush and green Three eggs hatched into eagles, their full size approaching near A gift of nature seldom ever seen But days before their maiden flight Trouble came their way In the form of a stranger cruel and unkind No one knows who did it And no one can tell us why Someone shot and killed the eaglets of the old iron mine Their wings will never touch the sky Heal our hearts and lift our eyes And carry all our prayers into heaven When I came back to check on them I found two eaglets shot The third one disappeared without a sign it took an hour of searching to reveal his hiding spot We found him broken, but alive in the old iron mine To the one who killed those eaglets: You know who you are I hope you hear the message of my song They're not just birds, they're something more They're messengers of God I hope someday you'll recognize that what you did was wrong. Their wings will never touch the skies Heal our hearts and lift our eyes And carry all our prayers into heaven And carry all our prayers into heaven. After suffering such cruelty, the third eaglet was reborn His wounds were healed with tender care and time As he was returned to freedom on a cold September morn He made a lazy circle over the old iron mine. |
Skinny Buddha
(words and music by Jen Hajj) Skinny Buddha is reclining by the fountain Serenity is on his face And we are dining in the shadow of the mountain Struggling to find our place The berries are sweet and the coffee is bitter And the sparrows are brazenly unwary And Skinny Buddha he just sits there smiling Like the cat who swallowed the canary. For my paper and my pen For all the women and men I am thankful for each blessing As it was in the beginning Is now and ever shall be World without end Amen amen amen Skinny Buddha's got a sneaky little grin He knows the secret of living He is watching us and the birds and the water Taking in the gifts that we are giving For my paper and my pen For all the women and men I am thankful for each blessing As it was in the beginning Is now and ever shall be World without end Amen amen amen Skinny Buddha's grown large on all the blessings Big fat smile is on his face He has found himself the secret of living Stumbled upon some sort of grace And it's amazing that saving grace For my paper and my pen For all the women and men I am thankful for each blessing As it was in the beginning Is now and ever shall be World without end Amen amen amen Inspired by a setting in Moab, Utah. The Eklecticafe. Check it out. After taking a songwriting class with Tom Prasada-Rao, I had a relaxing lunch there. He told us to pay closer attention to place, and I was dutifully taking notes about my surroundings. The Reclining Buddha statue by the koi pond, a lovely lunch of hot coffee and a berry scone, and the brazen sparrow that jumped right onto my plate with a demanding air. Ok, so not all of them ask not a crumb of me.
| "Eagles of the Old Iron Mine" comes from two true stories, sadly enough. In 2007, raptor rehabilitator Martin Tyner brought the world's attention to a nest in Iron County that failed because of human persecution. In that same summer, six miners and three rescuers were killed in a disaster at the Crandall Canyon Mine. Tyner released a golden eagle at the memorial service. These events, though unrelated, will always be tied together for me. The chorus of the song comes from a quote from a television interview with Tyner, about the Native American view of golden eagles as messengers to the Heavens.
Ave the Bird
(words and music by Kate MacLeod, arr. Hajj) Ave the Bird is cruising the blue The sound of a wing is heard only by a few Even as the sight Is a graceful ascension Perfect is the bird And clear is her intention Ave the bird says a lot without a word Hail the creatures that uplift our troubled world The romance of flight Has inspired our own invention Soaring is desired and divine Flight of thought is ancient and refined Ave the bird casts a shadow on the ground So swiftly it moves around Like something from a dream It invites interpretation Not to hurry for the coming days And to always be amazed. Thanks to Kate MacLeod for the honor of recording this beautiful song. Her original arrangement was for ukulele. Her reference recording of the song is beautiful: you can hear her pet finches meep meep meeping in the background. So appropriate. My ukulele skills aren't the best, so I arranged it for piano. My friend Mike Bolz provided the jazzy flute. You should see this flute he plays. it is made of bamboo, and it is old and cracked. It is literally held together with pipe clamps.
The Silver Swan
(Orlando Gibbons) The Silver Swan Who living hath no note When Death approached Unlocked her silent throat Leaning her breast Against the reedy shore Thus sang her first and last And sang no more Farewell all joys O Death come close mine eyes More geese than swans now live More fools than wise. An old madrigal, which I sang when I was in college. I love early music and could not resist including this on the album. There are other bird songs in this literature, I think I'll save them for orn-i-tho-lo-gie ii.
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Oh, there's a hidden bonus track on the physical CD (if you download, it is not included)...track 9 is Raptor Bird, my "award winning" song. Peter and Mary Danzig join in to make it super fun.
