This drawing’s another Michael Anderson dandy, depicting the cellar door in the song lyrics below. Mike drew the door in the Earth. The actual door led below a farmhouse at the outskirts of Athens, GA where we lived in 1977-78. There was an old grove of beech trees on the property near the house, and a dead tree directly in front of it where monarchs en masse made a rest stop on their way south both years we lived there. A lot of flat-out magical things happened to us and our friends there. It was a wild time in our as-yet childless lives, 2 years into our marriage. I look back fondly in these lyrics:
HOW I GOT OVER
I was the butt of April’s joke, a fool gone blind in wine and smoke.
I bless the night the light bulb broke and darkness eased my pain.
The cistern filled with rain, and honeysuckle seeped into my breath
As I fell off to sleep.
The cellar door was half ajar. I dreamed I found a star down there,
A point of light that flared and darted deep into my heart—
A tiny shining ark that sailed way into me and came to stay
As I lay there asleep.
It came to stay as I lay there asleep.
Ta na na na na na na na and that’s how I got over
To my soul
And as I lay there bathed in grace, the darkness wore a brighter face.
The gloaming glowed and it erased the space that hung between
My destiny and me. I heard my whole soul speak, and summon me
To waken from my sleep.
I woke taking my waking slow, untouched by thoughts that come and go
The traffic of my daytime mind had vanished in the night.
I felt the morning light warm wet empty streets, and fill the fields
As I arrived from sleep.
It filled the fields as I arrived from sleep.
Ta na na na na na na na and that’s how I got over
To the dawn to the light
And as I lay there fast awake, the shade was shorn as light did break
Into my room and met a mirror turned toward the sun.
Reflections one by one dissolved into the dawn. I sat up straight in bed
And the morning yawned.
The horses neighed in nearby stalls. A breeze eased ‘round the farmhouse walls.
The air was full of sweet bird calls and slowly melting bells from steeples in the hills.
The neighboring houses stirred. I sat there being
Every sound I heard.
Ta na na na na na na na
And that’s how I got over to my soul
That April was the kindest month. I was a happy springtime dunce.
You’re only young forever once and I was in my prime.
The blossoms were sublime—they blazed inside of me, and out in the garden
Crazed the honeybees.
By Geoffrey Oelsner
copyright 2009