Creation of the Violin – Revisited

A while back during a writing class I was challenged to re-write a myth. Any myth. In any form.

I must have read twenty or more myths before I came across the “Creation of the Violin,” on Wikipedia no less. https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Creation_of_the_Violin But this was literally the only one I felt connected to in any way. I related to the disparity of poverty and wealth, sorrow and joy, longing and fulfillment. I felt the connectivity to all humanity, and as a singer and lover of music, the power of a song is not lost on me. As I wrote, I was able to sense the emotions from the boy’s perspective. While I don’t see it as anything spectacular, I really enjoyed writing this poem.

The Creation of the Violin – Revisited

By Regina Cyzick Harlow

She longed for me, my mother did

To hold her baby flesh and blood

When I was born into this life

She fell ill and shortly died

I lived without her twenty years

I cried ten thousand bitter tears

But I went off to find my love

Guided by mother’s hand above

I came across a palace grand

A rich king with a daughter’s hand

Men had tried the world around

To win his daughter and his crown

I trembled low before His Honor

What must I do to court your daughter?

He cursed at me and bellowed loud

And threw me in the dungeon crude

Foolish boy, I thought aloud

For I am just a peasant’s child

What right have I to royalty

A beggar’s life is fit for me

Doom, despair, despondency

My self-fulfilling prophecy

Poverty is all I know

Crept it’s way into my soul

Light pierced through the dungeon black

A Fairy Queen, and from her back

She took a box and rod of wood

In my hands she placed the goods

I plucked some hairs from off her head

And strung them o’re the box and rod

I tucked the box beneath my chin

And touched the bow upon the string

As music filled the dungeon chamber

Fairy Queen was filled with laughter

Then as I slowed the bow and string

Tears became her offering

I felt a surge within my soul

Another language took control

Tears and laughter came and went

Evoked by my own instrument

Into the box and rod I poured

My lonely tears my childhood joys

My mother’s longing and her death

The odds of poverty and wealth

The chorus of ten thousand others

Joined the song across the ages

Haunting voices throughout history

From the future, still a mystery

Hope, despair, joy, and sorrow

Amalgamated and crescendoed

When at last I took a rest

I could hardly catch my breath

We had no words, the queen and I

No cheers to laugh no tears to cry

The song transcended any language

Gave voice to my deepest anguish

I sat once more before the king

Touched again the box and string

Moved by the magic of the music

King gave his daughter to this peasant

Happily, our ever after

Peasants, Royalty, together

Joined in song by box and string

Creation of the violin

Rainy Day Ramblings

The day started with a basket full of love and happiness.

20130606-221110.jpg

It was a lovely rainy day, the kind that inspires me to bake unnecessary confections and get into various other forms of tom-foolery.

But mostly I worked on the upcoming 5/K Run/Walk for The Sadie Rose Foundation and sang songs and played games with the Eli and Elsie.

One of our new favorite “rediscovered” songs is “You Can’t Rollerskate in a Buffalo Herd,” by the late great Roger Miller. You know, you can’t rollerskate in a buffalo herd, but you can be happy if you’ve a mind too.” We like making up new lyrics. For example…

20130606-221915.jpg

You can’t take a nap in a mandolin case, but you can be happy if you’ve a mind too.

The kids had yummy strawberry banana smoothies and I made juice for myself from these…

20130606-222058.jpg

We watched a Christmas video, made sausage and vegetable Quiche for supper and then I had meeting this evening.

Six years ago on Saturday, June 23, we gathered in the back corner of Beaver Creek Church of the Brethren cemetery to lay to rest our precious infant daughter, our sweet Sadie Rose. This year, Sunday, June 23, I will be licensed to the ministry at that same church nestled in the beautiful Beaver Creek community of the Shenandoah Valley. I did not put together the significance of being licensed on the day of our daughter’s funeral until I was driving home from my meeting this evening.

Yes random rainy day thoughts to be sure, but sweet, beautiful thoughts of faith, family and community.

One more picture just in case you haven’t had enough cuteness yet and a quote to ponder. “The highest and most beautiful things in life are not to be heard about, nor read about, nor seen but, if one will, are to be lived.” Soren Kierkegaard.

20130606-223118.jpg