MARCH!!!!!!

Is it coming in like a BIG , fierce lion or a cub?

One year almost to the day since the doors slammed shut to just about EVERYTHING! ONE YEAR!

And, to mis-quote Mr. Sondheim, we’re still here! (Most of us.)

I don’t make light of all the tragedy and madness that has surrounded us, how can any of us?

But I continue to look for the blessings inside the curses…blessings like creative innovation on so may levels…

taking time to slow down and look deeper, breathe slower, connect, appreciate what IS rather than what DOES, to strengthen our Good Deed  and compassion muscles. It is still a long slog, I know, bugt I feel like I am at least wearing some new emotional shoes.

( I TRIED putting on a pair of my  concert high heels and walking around the house. Just to see. OMG! 365 days of sneakers has ruined my ability to glide on graceful, catlike, tiptoe across the floor. (Was I EVER catlike?) I am going to have to practice , practice, practice, so I will be ready when concert season reappears…whenever THAT may be. Visions of Jimmy Choo’s under sweat pant pajamas …the fashion look for 2021!)

I must admit I am more hopeful. The changing of the guard makes me NOT dread reading the paper in the morning over my multiple cups of coffee. There appears to some good news making the front pages, if only at the very bottom.

My Buried Treasure for this month is a brand new one I wrote with my beloved bestie, Michele Brourman. It is called MY HEADLINE  FOR TODAY. I wrote the lyric after waking up happy on a Sunday morning. I sent the lyric to Michele, who created the perfect melody. I hope it brings some pep to your step!

WAVING

 I wave at men who mow the lawn

and children with their backpacks on

and passing dogs with laughing tails

and people who deliver mails

And UPS trucks grumbling down

my street in shades of poopful brown

Though now my arms, like flags unfurled,

Are flapping soft and flying-squirreled

No longer lean. No longer lithe

As when they once would wrap and writhe

And fan mad flames of lost desires

That kindled in some frantic fires

And still I wave with all my might

In hopes of bringing some delight

Or even just a tired smile

To those who trudge each hard-fought mile

And those there are who pity me

For them I wave most splendidly

In hopes that they may someday see

Beneath the folds and furls and fears

Of endless days and aching years

The promise of our history

The children we will
Always be

With Love & Music

Amanda