It is a fearful thing to love, 
what death can touch.

A fearful thing to love, 
hope, dream: to be to be, and oh! to lose

A thing for fools  this, 
and a holy thing, 
a holy thing to love.

For your life has lived in me,
your laugh once lifted me,
your word was a gift to me.

To remember this brings a painful joy.
‘Tis a human thing, love,
a holy thing,
to love what death has touched.


3 For Choir And Orchestra 2) It Is A Fearful Thing To Love

Peace before you, peace behind you.
Peace before you, peace behind you.
Peace beneath your feet.
Peace beneath your feet.
Peace, peace, peace, peace, peace!

Peace within you, peace surround you.
Peace within you, peace surround you.
Peace, peace, peace, peace!
Let all around you be peace.
Peace!


Peace (for Ed)

My new flute/piccolo concerto written in memory of my dear friend, Ed Senechal, who was an excellent flute and piccolo player having spent many years with the Hong Kong Symphony, opera houses in Germany and various chamber groups. The first two movements are based on Mary Oliver's poems, "Who Said This?" and "There Is a Place Beyond Ambition". I had started the last movement when he passed and the last movement is an exploration of the emotions that subsequently both hindered and fueled my writing. 

for Ed

The first movement of Summer Suite for clarinet or alto saxophone and piano.

Summer Morning

Heart,
I implore you,
it’s time to come back
from the dark,

it’s morning,
the hill are pink
and the roses
whatever they felt

in the valley of night
are opening now
their soft dresses,
their leaves

are shining.
Why are you laggard?
Sure you have seen this
a thousand times,

which isn’t half enough.
Let the world
have its way with you,
luminous as it is

with mystery
and pain-
graced as it is
with the ordinary.

~Mary Oliver


Summer Morning

My Oseh Shalom from Ashira. Cantor Vicky Glikin in a duet with herself, yours truly at the piano.

Oseh Shalom

The third movement from Summer Suite for clarinet or alto saxophone and piano.

Just Rain

The clouds did not say soon, but who can tell for sure,

it wasn't the first time I had been fooled; the sky-doors opened and the rain began

to fall upon all of us: the grass, the leaves, my face, my shoulders,

and the flowered body of the pond where it made its soft unnotational music

on the pond's springy surface, and then, the birds joined in and I too felt called toward such throat praise.

Well, the whole afternoon went on that way until I thought I could feel the almost born things

in the earth rejoicing.

As for myself, I just kept walking, thinking:

once more I am grateful to be present.

-Mary Oliver

Just Rain

The final movement of Summer Suite, for alto saxophone or clarinet and piano.

THEN BLUEBIRD SANG
Bluebird
slipped a little tremble
out of the triangle
of his mouth

and it hung in the air
until it reached my ear
like a froth or a frill
that Schumann

might have written in a dream.
Dear morning
you come
with so many angels of mercy

so wondrously disguised
in feathers, in leaves,
in the tongues of stones,
in the restless waters,

in the creep and the click
and the rustle
that greet me wherever I go
with their joyful cry: I’m still here, alive!

~ Mary Oliver


Then Bluebird Sang

My arrangement of I've Got Peace Like a River, published by GIA and included in their spring packet. They hire a choir to read through the pieces for a recording and they did a very nice job! I've included the very seldom done verse, "I've got pain like an arrow".

I've Got Peace Like A River

My new concert band piece in memory of my dear friend, Ed Senechal, commissioned by the Verona Area Concert Band, a musical setting of the following poem.

I want to tell you how hard it is to watch someone you love die.

But that is a lie.
It is as simple as breathing.

You stand, 
you sit, 
you lie down, 
as you always do,
and you watch,
paying attention 
or not,
in the same room, 
or the next,
across the street,
in the next state,
across an ocean, 
you watch.

You do the simple things that can be done.
You bring a glass of water, 
medication,
morphine.
You share a joke,  
a memory,
a dream.
You discuss the weather, 
the score, 
the day,
You watch them sleep.
You hold their hand.
You lie to them if you have to.
You promise to return.

And you turn your head, 
or not, 
to hide your tears.
But there is nothing difficult in this.
It is as simple as breathing.

And with the memories, you notice feelings arising, 
uncomfortable, unwelcome, painful feelings.
And you feel them and call them “difficult.” 
But there is no effort in their arising.

You think of the future and you notice feelings arising,
uncomfortable, unwelcome, painful feelings.
And you feel them and call them “difficult”. 
But there is no effort in their arising.

And in your fear you try resisting them
and they overwhelm you.
And in your fear you try fleeing them
and they overtake you.

And finally in your exhaustion and despair 
you turn in surrender and you embrace them.
And it feels as if you’ve stepped into the void,
forever falling into a bottomless pit of darkness, 
loss, and heart break.
And you embrace those feelings tighter.

And after what seems an eternity,
those feelings become no longer an enemy,
though not quite a friend.
And you fall no longer
and you land,
softly,  
or not softly at all,
in the same place you’ve always been,
though you have changed.

You cannot escape the ache of being human.
That ache is what makes you human.

I won’t tell you how hard it is to watch someone you love die
for that would be a lie.

It is 

as simple 

as 

breathing.




It Is As Simple As Breathing

...the old man grieves for his old dog
with all the grief he knows,
which seems again to be approaching 
enough, though he knows there is more.

for Sasha

Philip Orem, composer,  is noted for his emotional directness,  lyricism, varied textures, distinctive harmony, colorful orchestrations and imaginative text settings.

Phil Orem

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