We sang this hymn at Sunday service today. Everything looks dead. The days are short, and frequently dark and cloudy.
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The Musings of a Unitarian Universalist Minister
And it seems both universally used and universally loathed. But I refuse to dismiss this one out of hand. Sorry, folks. More after the lyrics, which I encourage you to read, not sing:. Come, sing a song with me, come, sing a song with me, come, sing a song with me, that I might know your mind. Come, dream a dream with me, come, dream a dream with me, come, dream a dream with me, that I might know your mind.
musings on Estonian, English, paganism, nature, poetry
I have to admit that has never been one of my favorite hymns. The melody is simple, almost sing-song, far perkier than I usually feel at this time of the year. And I flinch at the image of a perfect rose — grown somewhere far away under who knows what kind of labor and environmental conditions and imported for out-of-season retail sale — as a midwinter expression of love and beauty. If there must be flowers, I prefer them local and home grown, thanks. Here in central Maine we have had five or six accumulating snowstorms — at least three of them over eight inches — in the last three weeks. And we have more coming this weekend, another coastal storm that is forecast to dump a foot or more here and twice that downeast.
As more and more people marry out of their faith, the subject of interfaith marriage will become more and more important. Let them see the good in you, and believe that their son or daughter has found a good match. At the end of the second date I knew I needed him in my life. I think we date twice a year.