Saturday, September 30, 2017

On the Occasion of Blessing the Quimby Opus 74 - Poem


On Sunday evening October 1, 2017, 6:00 PM, I will officiate at All Saints Church at a celebration of a Sung Evensong, a Blessing and Dedication of our old Moller Pipe Organ, rebuilt, renovated and enhanced by the Quimby Pipe Organ Builders in Warrensburg, MO. It was a major project headed up by the talented and dedicated Steve Blackstock, our Music Director, Organist and Choir Director. I have missed the Organ while it was gone for renovation because I would often use the prelude as a means of centering myself in prayer before the services; especially when Bach was used with his structure and order.

As it was being installed, I was immediately struck with the section of the 97 bourdon pipes, the lowest pitched stop. The word “Bourdon” comes from the French word for bumble bees, that droning sound it makes and it is also used in the drone pipe in bagpipes. The Organ is a huge stationary wind instrument cousin to the small mobile bagpipe and my Scots heritage made that connection. It is an ancient Scottish custom for a Bagpiper to accompany the procession to a gravesite and as I thought of that I thought of my hope that this Quimby Opus 74 bourdon drones would play at my memorial service when I die, hopefully, years from now in the future. This poem is my thankfulness for this organ.


On the Occasion of Blessing the Quimby Opus 74
Hearing the 97 pipes of the 16 foot bourdon drone,
memory’s transported to where I have never been,
on hills in Scotland, my trusty piper plays me home
in soil resting after all my battles won, lost or seen.
The mists melt as Johann Sebastian, he commands
an instrument to enter into moments of holy awe,
bypassing plodding thought using dancing hands,
entering the spirits eyes never knew or even saw,
until I close them in order to pray before service,
shutting out all harsh cacophony of random noise
of busy life so I might hear, not tentative nervous
searches for nice words to say, but to be in poise
swimming in divine wind washing over/ through
so I can welcome angels and bid demons adieu.

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