colour my sky
When I undertook a song leading course last year, I enjoyed meeting other budding song leaders in other parts of the world, running their own song circles of different form and feel. It opened my mind to the possibility of the different ways people can come together in sound and song. One of my peers in the US brings people together in a night-time forest gathering, making space for darkness and quiet, and using sound, silence, and song as a way to be more present in nature.
I’m part of a group of women singers who meet weekly to learn folk songs from different parts of the world. We often learn songs in other languages, uncovering pieces of the stories behind these foreign folk songs, like Shen Khar Venakhi, a 13th Century Georgian wedding song. For me, singing songs from other places and cultures is a way to keep an outward look to the world, beyond this small desert town in the heart of the planet’s largest island continent. Through song we can cross continents and even travel back in time.
“You are a vineyard, newly in bloom
The blessed root arising from Eden
A fragrant poplar, growing in paradise
Whom God has blessed
You are a brilliant sun”
A juicy conversation topic I enjoyed in the song leading course was how we can intentionally use songs as ‘medicine.’ The healing powers of singing in groups has been known for some time, what expanded for me was the idea of sharpening the way we can intentionally use songs as medicine. A song choice in any moment can be based on what people need energetically, rather than simply working through a pre-defined set list, as I was familiar with.
There are songs to wake up a lethargic group, songs to calm and settle scattered energies, songs for grounding, songs as medicine in times of grief and loss, songs of joy and celebrating new beginnings.
I’ve come to realise that Colour My Sky is a balm for those times when I’m feeling stripped bare. It is an apt song for me to be singing right now when I’m feeling run down, depleted in reserves, and struggling to find a creative spark. Recently I’ve taught harmonies to the group of women I sing with. Sung with 12 or so women joining me, Colour My Sky starts with the chorus in three-part harmony with a friend playing accompanying percussion. Needless to say, the song has transformed through this collaboration. It’s uplifting and rejuvenating having a group of people join me - in sentiment, in song, in harmony, in rhythm, in attunement, in so many ways all at once. I cannot aptly sum up just how therapeutic it is. It definitely brought some colour back into my sky, ha! Sadly for the online listener, my solo version will have to suffice.
Whether it be a big community pub choir coming together to belt out pop and rock songs or a small song circle gathering in people’s backyards to sing folksongs, there’s no denying the healing benefits of singing in groups. There’s science to back it.
Colour my sky
When the ink runs dry
Leaving only black and white
Put the colour back
In my sky
And please wash these eyes
When the tears run dry
Leaving only white and black
Put the colour back
In my eyes
Take this pain, take this sorrow, let me try
If there’s kindling I could borrow to light a fire
I might just build it slowly, warming all my bones
Colour my sky
When the ink runs dry
Leaving only black and white
Put the colour back
In my sky
And please wash these eyes
When the tears run dry
Leaving only white and black
Put the colour back
In my eyes
From this empty shell, this burnt out hollow, build a home
From these rising ashes, from these coals glowing still
I feel the fire in me burning, it’s burning in me still
It’s burning in me still
Fire burning in me still
From these coals and ashes I will build
Scattered pieces, broken wings
Unfurling from some deep imagining
Fire burning in me still
From these coals and ashes I will build
Scattered pieces, broken wings
Rising up with wild imagining
Fire burning in me still
