I have taken this down from the wall in my home, at least for a while. It feels misleading to display it now, since what it declares hasn’t happened recently.
Believe it or not, I have actually never noticed the roosters until now. I know the colors within this frame, and certainly the text, but the roosters have been hidden from my consciousness. They seem to cheapen the whole thing, but if you’re a bona fide naturalist or animal lover or you have chickens, maybe the rooster-notion touches something deeper within you. Anyway, when I see the words “He put a new song in my mouth,” I actually don’t think about singing (or crowing) like normal people would. First, at least, I think about composing. Composing has been an important “voice” in my life, but I have only eked out a couple of marginal, original songs and relatively un-creative arrangements of others’ music in the last half-dozen years. If I hadn’t spent as much energy on arrangements and refinements, perhaps I would have had more “margin” in my life for creative bursts. But that has not been the case.
Aside: it’s not my goal to live in the past, but I often play “Monday morning quarterback” with things, including events in my life, on this blog. I’m better with hindsight than foresight, I guess. Rather than lamenting the lack of as much music as I want in my life, I suppose I could frame it in terms of celebration of some of the music of my past. (That’s not as easy as you might think.)
The frame above has hung in my home offices in four or five houses. It is coming down for a while now . . . until He puts a new song in my mouth again. My composing and singing voices both feel weak at this juncture. If nothing else, I am trying to be honest.