Sometimes it don’t even make a sound
Before too long you’re standing on the broken side of town
Where lost won’t get you found
But I remember one September when I put some days together
Then October bowled me over ‘til a warm wind loved me tender
Love me tender, that November I was sad but I was sober
Then December
Then December
In my early 20s, I lived on S. Lang in Point Breeze with my friend Rod. On one of my many breaks from drinking, I had a period of intense spiritual seeking. I’d go to Catholic mass early weekday mornings, listen incessantly to Van Morrison’s Veedon Fleece, and read book after book about God. Those are the days to which I am referring in the chorus, the days I put together.
Morning came and took me by surpriseThe morning sun was not the same without the mirror of her eyes
She could have been the kind of friend who ends all my goodbyes
And paints a new sunrise
But I remember one September when I put some days together
Then October bowled me over ‘til a warm wind loved me tender
Love me tender, that November I was sad but I was sober
Then December
Then December
Eventually, one November, I stopped drinking altogether. I was sad but I was sober, and I stayed both ways for a good long time…which I think is what the song is about. “Then December, then what?” I seem to be asking myself.
I held it in my trembling handsThe promise of a new day
Shiny pebble but it slipped away
“Sober” though I was, the shiny pebble slipped away. I lost that mirrored view of morning sun. But through the elegant alchemy of grace I find myself in another cycle of discernment. Everything. Over. Only this time, I hope, not squandered – the warm winds loving me tenderly through the winter, and on into the spring.
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