Last month we went to a Ferron concert at the very intimate Don Quixote's in Felton. Ferron's music is one of the sacred text of my people--if my people are lesbians of a certain age. She sang Testimony, and before she did she told us that the song is 31 years old. Only thirty-one years old. It seems to have been in my life forever. It certainly could live forever.
Testimony
There's godlike
And warlike
And strong
Like only some show
And there's sad like
And madlike
And had
Like we know
But by my life be I spirit
And by my heart be I woman
And by my eyes be I open
And by my hands be I whole
They say slowly
Brings the least shock
But no matter how slow I walk
There are traces
Empty spaces
And doors and doors of locks
But by my life be I spirit
And by my heart be I woman
And by my eyes be I open
And by my hands be I whole
You young ones
You're the next ones
And I hope you choose it well
Though you try hard
You may fall prey
To the jaded jewel
But by your lives be you spirit
And by your hearts be you women
And by your eyes be you open
And by your hands be you whole
Listen, there are waters
Hidden from us
In the maze we find them still
We'll take you to them
You take your young ones
May they take their own in turn
But by your lives be you spirit
And by your hearts be you women
And by your eyes be you open
And by your hands be you whole
Misty Mountain
Up the misty mountain
Wild flowers bind the ground
Down by the rushing river
Force will wear those boulders down
Me I'm underneath my covers
Me I'm trapped inside my brain
While up above the misty mountain
Up above the rushing river
Up above the bed of longing
The eagle takes the wind
The eagle takes the wind my friend
The eagle takes the wind
It makes me think of this my friend
Where does the eagle live in me?
O I am crawling through this city
I say the city will be my home
I say Ferron you are halfway pretty
And may you never be alone
Be it scorn or be it favour
Be it but a moment gone
But I stood before the mirror
Like an open-ended cavern
Like a breath held inhaled, holding,
And I barely knew my name
I barely knew my name my friend
I barely knew my name
It makes me think of this my friend
Where do I live in me?
O it's a planet of resistance
It's a whirling flame of choice
Are you my comrades in persistence
I swear they'll know us by our voice
Though we lay down in dusty corners
We are ragged as a scar
And when we rest our eyes stay open
We are always off to war
We're always off to war my friend
We're always off to war
And it makes my think of this my friend
Where can the quiet be?
O is it up the misty mountain
Where wild flowers bind the ground
Is it down by the rushing river
Where force wears those boulders down
Is it underneath my covers
Is it trapped inside my brain
Is it up above the misty mountain
Is it up above the rushing river
Is it up above the bed of longing
Where the eagle takes the wind?
She said that when she wrong these songs, "when she was young" she didn't know that she would be singing them over and over and over and over. But she's glad that she does because until she did that, she didn't understand them. That's how we feel too. Everytime I hear her sing these songs, I learn something new from them.
She said that she met women from Australia who say that there is a concept there of "everywhen." She says that when she sings these songs, she always goes back to that same time and space that she was when she wrote them.
Yes, and that is magic. These songs are from the everywhen of her life, and when I hear them--and live for a few minutes in the magic of the song--I too go back to my everywhen of all the times that I have lived in these songs. They are spells that change my reality.