How to Sing

by Susan Landry

Susan Landry, a writer I have always admired,

sent us all this poem.

how to sing

make sure you are alone and that the neighbors have gone to the Laundromat or to the grocery store.

it is best to wear your nightie or another loose-fitting garment.

try not to drink coffee during the first part of the exercise.

some people prefer the comforting whoosh of the shower, but it is not critical.

take your shoes off.

squinch your toes. feel the smooth wood floors,

or the tough weave of the carpet. do not worry right now about the silt you suddenly notice. you can vacuum later.

let your arms float lightly by your sides.

if you are tense, pretend you are dead, standing up.

let your mouth drift open. breathe like a child sleeps.

place the flat palm of your right hand on your tummy.

this is not the time to run to the computer to check for the closest Weight Watchers … just breathe lightly.

breathe lightly.

breathe.

breathe.

you are a sparrow

on the branch of a willow tree.

the wind caresses your feathers,

the sun warms your downy head.

a small sigh escapes from your throat.

breathe.

you glimpse the possibility of joy.

another sigh slips out.

the back of your throat quivers and a soft hum fills the air.

breathe.

the sky is the palest of blues.

there is no smallness of bird,

no largeness of tree.

only a silver note that hangs in the air.

only the birth of song.

now you can have your coffee.

do this for 10 minutes every morning,

and in one week, you will know how to sing.

susan t. landry