about
One of my favorite Buddhist koans is about not judging an event in the moment because that moment is bound to lead to a different moment. But, the moral goes, you shouldn't judge that moment either because it will also lead to a new moment. So judgment should be constantly deferred. What's left is accepting the current moment as it is without judgment. I wanted to retell that story. So, in "The Cleveland Bay," I reimagined the koan in the Antebellum South where the busybody neighbors think are overly involved. I really like how it turned out, but it could be bordering on pretentious. I would love feedback on this one.
lyrics
The Cleveland Bay
Verse 1.
A farmer had a Cleveland Bay
Took off through an open gate
Wasn’t back by the end of day
Fair to say he’d run away
The folks from town, all gathered round
Poor old man, don’t you feel so unlucky
The farmer replied we shall see
Verse 2.
Weeks before the fall harvest
Something moved up on the ridge
That Cleveland Bay he’d returned
Brought back with him a whole damn herd
The folks from town, all gathered round
Hey, old man, don’t you feel so lucky
The farmer replied we shall see
Verse 3
The farmer he had just one son
He’d been breaking colts since he was young
Got to work on the new mustangs
Till one reared back and left him lame
The folks from town, all gathered round
Poor old man, don’t you feel so unlucky
The farmer replied we shall see
Verse 4
War broke out in 61
Davis called for conscription
The troops came for the farmer’s heir
Left him alone in his wheelchair
The folks from town, all gathered round
Hey, old man, don’t you feel so lucky
The farmer replied we shall see
credits
from
Round 36, Week 2,
released March 14, 2022
Written by Jordan Crosby Lee
Harmony, harmonica, bossy producer: Jodi Hildebran Lee
license
all rights reserved