Middle Ages Ladies

Not middle aged--although I am now officially at that point in my life (44! I totally remember when my dad turned 44! Christian and I wrote a song for him for his b-day present) but middle ages.

For my next Medieval Women's Choir concert we are singing some MWC greatest hits.

We're singing a contemporary setting of the "song of the creatures" by St. Francis of Assisi (I'm sure "song of the creatures" sounds and feels less, um, creepy in Latin) and I just cry every time we sing about "frate sole" and "sora luna," brother sun and sister moon. I love St. Francis' spirit, his rapture, his deep and sensual love for the earth and all her creatures, and the tender personification of sun and moon as sister and brother to each other and to us as well. St. Francis knows how to love without restraint, without fear, without hesitation.

We're also singing Hildegard's Ave Generosa, which is an unusual poem for her because it's a bit of a catalog of metaphors for Mary (she is the pupil of God's eye--a bright lily). They build up until finally she says that we celebrate Mary because she bore the son of God. She writes about Mary's flesh holding joy, like grass holds dew, bending with its weight. Life weighs me down most days in flesh and in spirit, but it is a weight that makes me feel alive and purposeful, like grass in the morning or after the rain.