A Song for my Mother
My mother sang
My mother sang easy for herself
In the kitchen, in the car, in the garden
My mother sang.
Hymns, Blues, Jazz, Swing, Rock and Roll and Folk
All these my mother sang easy for herself.
“How Great Thou Art”
“Mrs. Robinson”
“Side by Side”
“Goodnight Irene”
this might be her idea of an afternoon concert
it didn’t matter if she knew all the words
one line was all she needed when Mama sang
easy for herself.
in the morning
mid-day
midnight hour my mother sang.
Words and the sounds of words
Rolling, tumbling, falling
Like a Pennsylvania mountain stream.
Words and the sounds of words
My mother sang.
Melodies like leaves on the wind
That whistled down our long valley.
Songs just came to her
When she wasn’t even thinking of singing
In the kitchen, in the car, in the garden
That how it was when My mother sang easy.
My mother sang serious in the church choir
Where she was the director
Who tried to direct me.
There is a proper way to sing she said
And she tried to teach me
The kind of singing
Where one note is right and another one is wrong.
This kind of singing where you are a tenor
And you sing with the tenors in the tenor section
And you not a baritone or bass
And don’t even think about soprano.
That’s what she said.
Songs that started and stopped on schedule.
That’s what she said
My mother when she sang serious.
When My mother sang serious
She laid those songs down end to end
On a narrow groove
A straight line highway to the horizon.
When My mother sang easy on her own
She wove a quilt full of songs
That spread out in all directions.
“What a Friend We Have In Jesus”
“I want to hold your Hand”
“Pennsylvania 6-5000”
and “Rock Island Line”
When My mother, the choir director
Tried to teach me proper singing
She tried to teach me with what she said
With clearly outlined parts
To be learned and reproduced.
When My mother sang easy on her own
She taught me with how she lived
And she covered me with a feeling of sound.
Sounds that covered me
The way the ocean wraps around you
When you dive into an oncoming wave.
When she tried to teach me with what she said
It was only words
And they blew away
Like seeds scattered on Chimney Rock
On the side of the Alleghenies.
I learned from how she lived
I learned from the sounds,
The songs that filled our house.
I absorbed those sounds into my skin
And they stayed.
When My mother sang easy on her own
That’s when I learned.
Not from what she said
But from how she lived.
And my life is filled with songs
That come to visit like old friends
Who drop by in the afternoon
And then decide to stay the night.
Songs and sounds and feelings
That return like waves on the ocean.
Waves that whisper
Waves that shout
Like My mother when she sang
When she taught me with her life
Singing easy
Like My mother singing easy
Like My mother singing
My mother singing
Only now
Her voice in mine
Endless like the ocean.