Live Virtual Group Session: 6PM EDT October 8th 2025

13 Comments

Thank you to everyone who joined us for this session!

For this session we read an excerpt from “The Antidote ” by Karen Russell, posted below.

Our prompt was: “Tell about a song that has not been lost.”

Participants are warmly encouraged to share what you wrote below (“Leave a Reply”), to keep the conversation going here, bearing in mind that the blog of course is a public space where confidentiality is not assured.

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Please join us for our next session Friday October 17th at 12pm EDT, with more times listed on our Live Virtual Group Sessions.

“The Antidote ” by Karen Russell pg.392

Many songs have been lost. But not all songs have been lost.
I breathed in a lungful of dust at the top of the ladder, sinking my fingers into the wet soil. Job ends his
interrogation of God in a great quiet. When I surfaced from my whirlwind, I heard a lot of noisy, irreverent
chirping. Meadowlarks darted around the ruins of my house, skimming the tires of the truck the twister had
flipped onto its back like some colossal beetle. Goldfinches were swooping in and out of the roofless barn
like indecisive stars. Grassland songbirds chorus every morning on the prairie, rain or shine, drought or
flood. Singing at the tops of their tiny lungs and stitching the world together, waking everyone to the work
ahead. But rarely do I pay attention. In the Book of Job, what God reveals inside the whirlwind cannot
be written down. The omission made more sense to me now, listening to birdsong. Already, God has
translated the answer into everything living. It was Job’s ears that needed tuning. The whirlwind gave Job
a powerful instruction, and so did the great quiet it left in its wake. The silence of God is not so silent after
all. It is teaching me how to listen.

Credit: Karen Russell

13 thoughts on “Live Virtual Group Session: 6PM EDT October 8th 2025”

  1. Trevor Hebert's avatar Trevor Hebert

    Half deaf and half blind, I see and hear the world so clearly.

    The story time has given and taken away so willingly,

    and reluctantly,

    to and fro, back and forth.

    Through the old adage, I think:

    “From destruction brings peace.”

    The quiet of the night whilst daylight be present,

    I set my sword down and turn my gaze to the beauty beholden

    Only to me.

    The trees, our closest star, the blue skies and subtle quiet of mine own beating heart within,

    I breathe deeply.

    I love strong.

    As free as a bird, I am always needed where I belong.

    As I live the story of my life to write this song.

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    • al3793's avatar al3793

      Trevor, your speaker delivers a lyrical quality to this poem. There is rhythm, rhyme and with each line so much to consider. As the song begins the knight seems beleaguered and unsure of the capacity to complete the task at hand. Yet resilience is mustered by lowering the sword and turning the gaze to the beauty beholden within. It reminds me of Pascal’s admonition to always have something beautiful on your mind as even a quick glance at that can help us sustain the insuperable. The trees, the blue skies, the quiet of the beating heart, the deep breath, the strength of love, the freedom of the bird. “I am always where I belong.” Very nice! Andre

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      Reply
  2. michele348's avatar michele348

    About a song that has not been lost~~~

    I hear a song from within my heart.
    A simple melody, but one with profound meaning.
    It was composed with the gentle touch
    and the kindness given to me by my mother…
    beginning from my first breath
    and extending into adulthood.

    The song speaks of the courage that I possess within…
    the strength to handle what life
    would bring my way.

    The song tells me that I am enough,
    never to feel less than another.
    That we are all created equal
    in God’s eye.

    So, when life slaps me in the face,
    I remember that song within,
    and it gets me moving forward,
    undaunted by the actions of the world.

    Like

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    • al3793's avatar al3793

      Michele, your speaker tells so much about the goings-on in that heart. It testifies to the beauty of the gentle touch and kindness of a mother and the impact on a life. “The song tells me I am enough…” such an empowering line and a rampart for when life delivers a slap in the face…the power to move forward, undaunted. Another gem. Andre

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply
    • Stef's avatar Stef

      Michele, when I hear the old hymn, “Cleanse Me,” I can feel my mother’s touch, as you so eloquently described. “…composed with the gentle touch
      and the kindness given to me by my mother…” That song tells me I am enough when I am in my Savior’s presence. Momma’s not so much but the gentle way you reminisce about yours made me miss mine.

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply
  3. al3793's avatar al3793

    Tell About a Song That Has Not Been Lost

    There is a song that never ends

    “and it goes on and on my friends…”

    an unextinguishable ear worm.

    But then a male yellow warbler

    interrupts the cycle of acoustic white noise

    searching for a mate and sings

    “Sweet, sweet, you’re so sweet,”

    Or the white throat sparrow

    searching for a gray haired missing person

    driving a 2017 Forerunner calls,

    “Old Sam Peabody, Peabody, Peabody.”

    And all this after months of singing not a note

    Spring breaks forth with it’s unmatched

    Cacophony of a symphony warming up to play.

    afl 10.08.2025

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    Reply
    • michele348's avatar michele348

      The white- throat will stick around right straight through winter, a guest at my birdfeeders. A sad song he has. Whereas, the yellow warbler by now is off to warmer climes for his winter stay. The bird that used to drive me bonkers when it had a nest outside my bedroom window was the Carolina wren. His song could wake up the dead…talk about an earworm.

      I will miss all the songbirds that have or will soon depart. They were my natural alarm clock during the warm months of the year.

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      Reply
    • Stef's avatar Stef

      “searching for a gray haired missing person”–that’s me, Andre!

      I wrote my response once but WordPress said I wasn’t logged in. Blah blah blah.

      Anyway, the first few words of your poem took me back to “The Wonder Years” tv show. As Joe Cocker invited us to lend him our ears and he’d sing us a song, trying to not sing out of key, I could feel the nostalgia, as I do in your poem.

      Excellent job!

      Like

      Reply
  4. Stef's avatar Stef

    The melody is faint but I hear it late at night

    When the man lying beside me is still

    With the background radio noise of crickets chirping

    I cannot make out the words but my feet tap along

    They’re on the verge of my tongue

    The edge of my mind

    It’s so familiar and yet

    Yet it’s 

    Not complete

    The words need to be there

    Where are the words

    My soul needs fed

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    • michele348's avatar michele348

      Sleep beckons, but the mind is awake, wanting to hear words that seemingly are absent. The soul hungers and cannot rest. Hopefully, they will arrive and rest will come.

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

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