Rachael Sage : grace

January 2020

grace

"grace" - 1/24/20

If I do not choose to capitalize your name tonight

Let it be because you are a part of a special coven

Of creative witches I know to have deemed themselves simarly stylized

And in my affection for you, as with ani (lowercase) d.

Or the great e.e. I know my faith in your reverence

Of beautiful art is soul-secure

I know this not because your voice is beautiful (which of course it is)

Nor because so many others adore you (as they do)

Neither am I sure of your worthiness from your work ethic alone (though it is laudible)

I could not either have been certain purely upon the basis of reputation,

Recommendation, inspiration or fascination

(Though in scintillating conversation you surely are likely to excel)

If I do not choose to frame your photo tonight

Let it be because you are part of a special order

Of anti-bitches I've been invited to dream alongside ideas into a paradigm

And in my protection of your talent, as with Loretta

Or the great Patsy I know instinct runs parallel

To your compassionate heart still but not unduly pure

I share this not because your mission is altruism (which of course it's rarely)

Nor because so many others admire you (as they do rightfully)

Neither am I sure of your ambition from your admission alone (though it is palpable)

I could not either have been certain solely on the basis of marketability,

Package-ability, accessibility or sensibility

(Though in popularity you surely are potentially a winner)

I knew because like your name, you are gracious as well as wise,

Humble as well as strong, generous as well as hungry for truth

Like your name you offer before being asked,

Ask a million questions when you do not know,

Offer solutions even when they are not required

And pave pathways in your own snow

For all of these reasons and more,

I have committed to support you like a marriage of the minds,

In which both our wings align to help the Goddess scale new heights

Like a carriage in the dark your courage and resourcefulness

Made all the more fortified

By our collective reading of the stars

Imminent

“Imminent” - 1/7/20

The threat of war is always there
The thread of disease constant
The threatening looks of angry parents
Eyes every child fears

The threat of failure in all realms
Cripples the most insightful
Temporal and inconstant woes
Wield might of crushing armies

The threat of violence soul-obscures
The thread of peace falls dormant
Its frozen cobweb consciousness
Fascistically abandoned

The threat of cynicism’s clutch
A hawkish machination
Separation replaces touch
Distance gives cruelty carte blanche

The rules of war are mystifying
The tools of war are petrifying
The ruling books of angry leaders
Penned in borrowed tears

The threat of insurrection flares
Landmines of insecurity
Suppression is the saddest blow
Every sentient endures

Pulpit

"Pulpit" - 1/6/20

It is difficult to know sometimes
From the pulpit of "entertainment"
How much to let on / let in

Fires consume continents, wars consume regions
Friends consumed with mothers and fathers, lost
What can we do, when we are gathered

This few of us, on a Sabbath
At the edge of a city taut
Fraught with its own tragedy

Reviewing my potential set-list tonight
"This Darkness", "Bravery's On Fire"
I couldn't quite do it

Anticipating if I sang publicly what I
Mourn privately, no holds barred
Rivers would flow

"Release show" is an oxymoron
Releasing cannot be done for show
Releasing comes from letting go

Sometimes, as Joy confided tonight
"Playing music is so hard"
But not playing is not an option

So I will rest my eyes
Grateful for the opportunity
To gather generous listeners

To the palm of my heart
Hopefully, hope comes through
Even when life cannot imitate art

Amplifier

"Amplifier" - 1/2/20

I was never someone who inherently loved singing

I was electrified by sharing ideas, amplifying uplift

Until I revelled in the virtues of touring, the mystical

Repetition-redemption derived from doing more

Than the occasional one-off

I never really envisioned voicing my own stories

As a kid an early goal was hit songs on the radio

But the conundrum was I didn't trust anyone else

To deliver messages I was secretly encoding

Fact is I might not be doing what I'm doing but for a

Collision course with the infamous Jenny Hillis

Jenny was popular and I was a transfer from another

School where visciousness abounded. I'd begged for

Freedom from inane competition for quixotic status

In favor of somewhere I could start fresh as myself

Jenny liked my songs but was also honest

A non-musician she nonetheless had the A&R chops

At 11 to turn me on to a crucial pile of cassettes:

Carole King, James Taylor, Bread, The Doors, Cat Stevens

(She also supplied The Dead but that never stuck)

Until then my influences essentially spanned

Classical, Broadway, Hebrew School and Top 40

Suddenly I envisioned a potential scaling the walls

Of angstful youth's melodic insurrection

A mission encompassed by Jenny's collection

As for singing, I never got into chorus but I also

Never felt that should sway me from my newfound

Professional goal of expression-ambassador

Birds sing to give voice to the delight of life

Great voices abound and I've never been silent or still

In spite of my own questionable piloting potential

Tonight I witnessed gloriously gifted opera singers

Effortlessly emote their passions impromptu

At a soiree celebrating a loved-one's birthday

Tuchus-kicked, humbled, nonetheless I reflect

I'm still not someone who inherently loves singing

What electrifies me is sharing ideas, amplifying uplift

Still I revel in the virtues of touring, the mystical

Repetition-redemption derived from doing more

Than the occasional one-off

I have no idea what happened to my friend

Who embraced me as the nerdy new girl

Even though she was cool, and impossibly beautiful

But tonight it occurs to me that she deserves a lyric

Better than one I wrote for her at 11, "Jenny's Friendship"