Winter Wisteria

The bare branches of the wisteria are grey and twisted and jagged. Somehow they speak to the state of my Soul at the moment. It may just be jet lag, so not the best time for a reckoning. But the fact is that it takes a toll on the psyche to be constantly defending against the onslaught of evil, the mathematics of mortality, the sheer weight of a human existence. Saying it all out loud often helps lighten the burden, so bear with me here for a moment if my usual dalliance with hope and happiness takes a back seat for a moment. 

 

If I lay out the facts, it all seems understandably justifiable. One of my friends in the men’s group passed his 86^th birthday deciding not to eat or drink anything more, giving up on his 10-year battle with Parkinsons. He will be the first of the nine of us who have been together for 36 years to die of “old age” and with five of us now arrived at 80+, it’s simply coming attractions. 

 

Just on the cusp of celebrating the release of The Humanitarian Musician (my 11^th book), my books have disappeared from online sellers because a distributor dropped me, the printer who stored my books for free will now charge and the publishers of Jazz, Joy & Justice also are dropping me. God forbid the world support my efforts to bring some music hand-in-hand with joy, justice, humanitarianism and dedication to children. 

 

The numbers are down for our International Summer Orff Course because people are either now blocked from entering our country or the Visa requirements are much stricter or they have the good sense to stay away from a place leaning toward fascism. And don’t get me started with Pam Bondi.

 

In short, more than enough reasons to slide down into despair. The reunion playing and singing love songs (Valentine’s Day) at the Jewish Home helped, but not enough. I’ve said often enough, “Don’t let the bastards get you down!” because then they win, but a slogan alone is not enough to heal a battered emotional body. 

 

And yet. I know that beautiful blossoms are lying dormant inside those jagged wintry branches of the wisteria, patiently awaiting their moment to bloom. It’s the moment to listen to Tony Bennett, accompanied by Bill Evans, singing Michel LeGrand’s song “You Must Believe in Spring.” So I’ll end with hope back on the horizon and we’ll see what tomorrow brings. (The words below are poetic enough, but I highly recommend listening to the above version of the song.)

 

[Verse 1]
When lonely feelings chill
The meadows of your mind
Just think if winter comes
Can spring be far behind?
Beneath the deepest snows
The secret of a rose
Is merely that it knows
You must believe in spring

[Verse 2]
Just as a tree is sure
Its leaves will reappear
It knows its emptiness
Is just the time of year
The frozen mountain dreams
Of April's melting streams
How crystal clear it seems
You must believe in spring

[Verse 3]
When angry voices drown
The music of the spheres
And children face a world
That's far beyond their years
Above the darkest sky
The full horizons lie
With all the reasons why
You must believe in spring

 

(Verse 4)

You must believe in love
And trust it's on its way
Just as the sleeping rose
Awaits the kiss of May
So in a world of snow
Of things that come and go
Where what you think you know
You can't be certain of
You must believe in spring and love