A Memory of Rose, who passed away three years ago.

Rose and I decided to be in a talent show together. Most likely she talked me into it. We always sang together, so of course we chose to sing a song. She sang the low notes I sang the high. I had such stage fright. She held my hands and we faced each other and sang the song below.  And now whenever I hear it, I smile a bit and I cry a bit, thinking of her and her strong hands and her beautiful belt-it-out voice. The way she did so many things with such force and passion inspired me then and it continues to inspire me now. I love you, Rosie. Thank you.


Under African Skies


Joseph's face was black as night 
The pale yellow moon shone in his eyes 
His path was marked 
By the stars in the southern hemisphere 
And he walked his days 
Under african skies 
This is the story of how we begin to remember 
This is the powerful pulsing of love in the vein 
After the dream of falling and calling your name out 
These are the roots of rhythm 
And the roots of rhythm remain 

In early memory 
Mission music 
Was ringing 'round my nursery door 
I said take this child, lord 
From tucson arizona 
Give her the wings to fly through harmony 
And she won't bother you no more 

This is the story of how we begin to remember 
This is the powerful pulsing of love in the vein 
After the dream of falling and calling your name out 
These are the roots of rhythm 
And the roots of rhythm remain 

Joseph's face was black as night 
And the pale yellow moon shone in his eyes 
His path was marked 
By the stars in the southern hemisphere 
And he walked the length of his days 
Under african skies