Called

Unknown, really, which words,
soft, insistent,
were first whispered to the heart.
No matter, either,
that they were repeated,
in frequent quiet.
Little known of them
but that they formed a question
that was asked,
was always asking,
patient, patient,
waiting.
A call,
waiting
to be recognized,
waiting
for an answer.
Having asked so many others,
bearing fullness of Hope that
this answer will be the Yes,
the Yes that requires
Selflessness, Labor,
Dedication, Love,
Patience,
like its own.

What matters, what is known
is that Yes
was freely given.
Translated here by years
of faithful,
loving,
service
to the music...
...and to the Muse
Who, though in heaven,
comes down to earth again
to dwell in hearts
each time text and sound,
joined by Grace,
becomes complete
and lives within us.

written in honor of the 25 anniversary of Walden Moore as Choirmaster at Trinity Church on the Green, New Haven, CT

I'll be there song 1978

chorus
Wake me from my slumber's bliss
Wake me with love's tender kiss
I'll be there, I'll be there
Wake me with the new sunrise
With the passion of your eyes
I'll be there, I'll be there

We filled the night, 'til it would fill no more
Shamed the stars, outshone them all
We poured ourselves into one another souls
And made the world just one room small

chorus

I've had enough of wakin' up to find
That love had fled, had lost it's charms
To realize that love had never been
But just a game in strangers arms

chorus

I know that I no longer need to search
I've found my life and love in you
No longer need to dread the morning sun
I know that you have found me too

chorus (change)
Wake you from your slumbers bliss
Wake you with love's tender kiss
I'll be there, I'll be there
Wake you with the new sunrise
With the passion of my eyes
I'll be there, I'll be there,
I'm still here

(Fall 1978 used as original music for Albertus Magnus College production of Spoon River Anthology)

Copyright © 1978 Mary-Elizabeth Smith

You are so beautiful Song for Jim 5/1975

The day is wearisome, but the night is sure to come
And earth can lay her burdens down
And I am much like she, the evening comforts me
I too can put my cares away

Chorus
You are so beautiful
Your love's like evenin' time to me
I thank you now for entering my life
And coloring my days

The gifts God gives are sweet
To make my life complete
And you dear friend are foremost of that kind
And I can't help but be, richer by your love for me
And thankful for your giving me myself

Chorus

Our days will surely pass
Our life here cannot last
And someday we will be called home
But until that time, these words I sing and rhyme
Will testify to all you mean to me

Chorus

Copyright © 1975 Mary-Elizabeth Smith

Take my Sword (song)

Take my sword and make a ploughshare
For I'm wearied of war
Take my boots and point them homeward
For I care to march no more

For I've held too many dying
Seen too many wounds that will not heal
Too many nights heard grown men weeping
Too many times I could not feel

Take my sword...

All the fathers and the mothers
And the children who must mourn
And the broken hearted lovers
Who must learn to love alone

Take my sword...

We are all soldiers on this field
And if you asked, again we would go
But please try to find the reason
Let this hell be war's last show

Take my sword...

Copyright © 2008 Mary-Elizabeth Bean

I Am Undone by Love (song)

I am undone by Love
So great, so wide
That shook my heart
'til it fell free
Despite my fear and pride
I am undone by Love
And thus undone
I stand before
Heaven's ever open door

I am undone by Hope
So clear, so bright
In darkest hours
A taste of dawn
To feed me through the night
I am undone by Hope
And thus undone
I stand before
Heaven's ever open door

I am undone by Grace
So free, so fair
That all my days
Spent here on earth
Are brushed by Heaven's air
I am undone by Grace
And thus undone
I stand before
Heaven's ever open door

I am undone by Peace
So soft, so sure
Which bids me end
My restless walk
My soul in God secure
I am undone by Peace
And thus undone
I stand before
Heaven's ever open door

Copyright © 2008 Mary-Elizabeth Bean

Waiting

Useless
Nothing to do
But think and think and think
And wait

What prayers
But for an easy end,
For peace
But underscored
With prayers for acceptance,
For strength,
For courage,
I lack all of them

Useless
Nothing to say
But write and write and write
And wait

What inspiration
Comes from waiting
For death
For a storm
For a life
For healing
I have done them all
I grow weary of waiting

Battle

We talk logistics,
powers of attorney
the latest word from doctors.
The patient’s battle,
Like planning a siege on a city:
Where would the biggest challenge be?
What were the options? Where to place the biggest guns,
The line of retreat? When do we raise the hue and cry “Fall back?”
How many did we have in the fight, and would they stand?
We do not talk of the end,
of how we might surrender, if we must wave the white flag.

We cannot speak of real fears,
the stomach churning havoc wreaking knot
that has settled in our bowels,
but content ourselves with details,
like quartermasters making lists,
providing for eventualities,
counting our way through the battle.

Our captain lies abed
assaulted by creeping, terrible foes
warring for a life
and we cannot voice it.
We fear defeat
but we are silent on the subject,
talk of other things among ourselves.

Fear is contagious,
And so each of us a sergeant
modeling bravado before the assault,
shouting orders, keeping busy, cracking wise.
If the battle is lost
we deal then.
But now
we fight.