This was the title song of our first album Medicine Lands.
When I wrote this tune I’d just read Rachel Carson’s book Silent Spring and Whatever Happened to Ecology by Stephanie Mills and what I took from these titles was the idea of ‘is hope a thing called chlorophyll’ and it haunted me.
‘I stand in line, I hold the mirror to my face’ , admits my footprint was in need of examination.
Medicine Lands is a plea and a prayer to shelter these sacred lands. Remember ‘under the canopy lies the lifeline of Earth’.
Joy Brooks - vocal/harmonies
Caroline and Katherine Brooks - harmonies
Fredrick Brooks - acoustic guitar/percussion
Jeff Brackett - electric guitar
Paul LaChappelle - bass
Mark Congram - drums
Chants - Brookfield (North) - Joy Gearing, Victor Fuke, Jay Olson, and Emerson Brooks
Produced by Paul LaChappelle, Fredrick Brooks, and Jeff Brackett
Recorded and mastered at Quest Recording
<Click here to listen to Medicine Lands>
Photo - Joy Brooks on Wabaskang Lake
MEDICINE LANDS
I stand in line
I hold the mirror to my face
The tree the rain and I, will fall before this day
Beyond the boundaries there’s no reason to disagree
Inhale the ancient rain the water of life speaks
Under the canopy lies the lifeline of Earth - Maybe it’s Utopia
Maybe it’s Utopia or the roots that hold us firm
As tropical colours bleed
Are we left with only black and white
Is hope a thing called chlorophyll as we live out our life
As years pass by and memories fade
I’m reminded of the day
When Chief Seattle spoke his words
They scoffed in disbelief
Shelter the Medicine lands
Costa Rica - The Cameroons
The lowland mystic mangroves
See the highlands kiss the moon
(c) 1997 - Fredrick Brooks
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<Click here to listen to Winter’s Longing>
WINTER’S LONGING
I felt the verse of swaying tree
Her song the call of winter’s leave
From rooftops melting arrows fell
As sparrows bunched and bade farewell
To a blanket white soon to recede
As I alone marched her failing sea
Here forgotten berries lay withered black
That no wing would pluck for their lack
For soon the Earth would reveal to sky
An open meadow for her eye
Of vivid greens — colours fair
With gentle breeze
Leaving winter bare
© Fredrick Brooks (2013)
Painting Ruth Read
From the Quarterly
