Sunday, June 25, 2006

Sunday Scribbling - Music

Pearl’s Legacy

My world was filled with music.
Whites, a grey deck, harmonies and
the haunting tones of a French horn
joined with a crisp snap of a flag
unfurling to meet the morning sun.
Colors played.

Discordant drone.
Unharmonious hum.
Eyes raise and mind stands still.
Instruments drop like bombs
as awareness crashes in.

My duty station filled with blood.
Body parts stacked.
Tourniquets twisted.
Men screamed and died
crying for their mothers.

My world became filled with the sound of
explosions and endless cries of fear and pain.
I never played music again.

Forty-eight years passed and then was caught a glimpse
of seeds of my old self taking root again.
There was a voice and then a double bass.
A saxophone followed as the boy explored the orchestra.
He was on a quest to fine the instrument that would call his name.

A bassoon stood up and revealed the same haunting sound
expressed by the long ago lost French horn.
“Come play with me”, it said. His quest was finished.
Through junior high and high school and college,
phantom memory followed the boy into manhood.
Music filled their world and the phantom memory rejoiced.

Finally, it was music that followed him into that final sleep.
He rocked in the embrace of the music and as last light faded
HE filled the world with his own music again.

In honor of my father, Seaman/Musician Russell C. Bastian,
assigned to the USS Nevada, December 7th, 1941.


Jennifer said...

wow, this is just amazing. Very touching.

~Kathryn~ said...


Daisy Lupin said...

That is so beautiful. You may have seen by now that what I was indulging myself about in my Friday blog was doing a posting on Sunday Scribblings myself. I pondered whether I would be good enough or whether I would look silly. Well after making that public statement and preparing a piece. I posted it last night. I am pleased I did. Thank you for your lovely comments about the recent death of our cat, Pixie. Love Daisy Lupin x

paris parfait said...

Annie, such a beautiful, poignant remembrance of your father: obviously a very special man. You've described his relationship with music so well.

mikim said...

This is such a beautiful poem honoring the memory of your father and his love of music. Lovely.

AscenderRisesAbove said...

Amazing writing

Autrice DelDrago said...


vicci said...

An absolutely beautiful tribute to your Dear Dad Annie.....I love it! I also love the photo...priceless!Music holds so much emotion for me that I am finding it hard to write about...especially now...I am just plain HOT...and can't even think right...I hope the 90 weather comes soon...what are you doing this week?

Becca said...

Annie, this is haunting and beautiful. What a great tribute you've paid to your father. I am so glad that music was there for him at the end, for it must have brought him comfort.

Tammy said...

What a beautifully written poem. He would have been so proud of you in this tribute :) Brava!

Big hugs

susanna said...

Oh my gosh, that brought a tear to my eye. That was a really, really beautiful tribute to your father.

Beth said...

Wonderful tribute Annie! Love it. I don't know where the world would be without great muscians!

Colorsonmymind said...

Beautifully written-wonderful tribute-to your father and to music

Joy Eliz said...

This post brings me peace. Everything about it...such peace and love - it's comforting to me.

January said...

What a wonderful way of honoring your father. Thank you for sharing with us.

Ally Bean said...

a lovely melodous tribute. very nice.

Cookie said...

Annie..such a beautiful way to pay tribute to your beloved father. Thank you for commenting on my music piece.

Star said...

Your dad would be honored to read your words. They are full of emotion, respect and love. Thank you for sharing them with us, Annie.

John Tran said...

Very beautifully written.

Cate said...

I am catching up on your blog, Annie, and as I devour your entries, the ones paying tribute to your father move me the most. What a wonderful daughter you were to him--to have listened to his experiences and truly HEARD him. Your words are rich with emotion and truth. I cannot even imagine how proud he was of you . . .