Dawnings
Close
By Nicholas Hooper
Close is the heart that beats as one
Close is the mind that sees inside
Close is the breath that gives me life
And close are these hands that write
Close are the nettles that sting and grow
And close is the elder that spills its spoils
And close is the gnat outside my glass
And close are these hands that write
This thought of closeness comes today
Of those who’re closest in life’s play
The stages of friendship day by day
And close are these hands that write
The joy of words that go the mile
The joy of words that make you smile
The joy of wisdom shared the while
And close are these hands that write
The music comes and the music goes
Where it comes from no one knows
But with the soul it grows and grows
And close are these hands that play, that play
And close are these hands that play.
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About Dawnings:
“Every morning at around 5am I get up and go down to my studio. After a short meditation I write down whatever is in my head, giving myself fifteen minutes to do so. Then moving over to the piano (or a more portable instrument like my Ukulele when I'm away), I improvise and record a piece of music inspired by whatever words I just wrote. It is a great way of keeping both my writing and my composing going and I call these small creations Dawnings. They are mostly unedited, like sketches, so that they keep that fresh feeling of an early morning discovery.”
— Nick Hooper