Three Gnostic Poems

for unaccompanied mixed choir

Fletcher LaVallee Bartholomew
(1918 - 2006)

Choral settings by Greg Bartholomew
of three poems by
Fletcher LaVallee Bartholomew

DEMONSTRATION ONLY SOUND FILES

An Open World
Duration: 3 minutes
When I Land
Duration: 5 minutes
And the Wind
Duration: 4 minutes

An Open World, When I Land and And the Wind are three settings of poems from Fletcher LaVallee Bartholomew's collection entitled And the Wind: Gnostic Poems 1945 - 1979. Minneapolis native Fletcher Bartholomew spent most of his life in aviation, beginning with a childhood flight in a Curtis Robin in 1929. His work in aviation started with a job as an inspector in an aircraft factory. He went on to become a test pilot in World War II, serving at the South India Air Depot at Bangalore, India, where he was sent by ship, an experience he always remembered. He later worked in airport planning and management.

An Open World

There is a certain madness born of sailing
From port to distant port the world around.
There is a certain way it has, unveiling
Unused chambers of the mind so that the sound
Of many different voices can be heard.
- The range of human thoughts and views,
From which with joy can be inferred,
An open world, and paths to choose.

And the Wind

There is an awesome beauty found in sailing
Through black of night upon the open sea,
Your vessel mauled by unseen waves and trailing
Her phosphorescent wake, as steadily,
She plows into the darkness,
And the wind.

When I Land

I fly da Vinci's dream on wings of speed,
With effortless delight I cleave the air,
Free in the boundless realm of sky, I feed
My soul with wonder, questions seeming fair.

Why brought forth to wander on this earth?
Why given this brief breath of life,
To wonder at our enigmatic birth,
To reach for stars, want reason for the strife.
Yet, being here, why try to find a plan?
Why waste time in thought before we go?
Is not life enough for any man?
How many have, as theirs, my answer, “No.”

When I set foot again upon the land,
And darkness gains upon the setting of the sun,
I long to feel the welcome of your hand
In mine, to rest, let Time its silly cycles run,
Life's nights are all too few.
No other hand, no other's look, no other one,
Can bring that peace to mind or heart or soul,
No peace. Although I know there's always fun
In life, to reach that sublime goal,
I must return to you.