Some walk in the hollow

Back in the days when I had very small children and no computer, I'd huddle next to the radio speakers on cold Saturday evenings - our house was over a century old and very difficult to heat - and listen to A Prairie Home Companion, beaming over the border from the PBS feed at the University of Washington.    

One of the guests was a folk guitarist named Martin Simpson, singing a lyrical elegy on the tragedy of Icarus. I was in the habit of taping the show, and I listened and listened to this heartbreakingly beautiful song. 

Not long afterward, Martin Simpson himself was scheduled to give a concert at Camosun College, but it would be a long, dark bus ride there and back, with the complications of arranging child-care, and I lost heart. 

I also forgot, over the years, how the song went, and who the musician was, and even after I acquired a computer, I was unable to retrieve the memory. 

A few weeks ago, Spotify sent me its weekly offerings of algorithmic suggestions, and while listening to it, I recognized Martin Simpson's unmistakeable voice. Spotify also offers playlists of individual artists, so I checked the one for him. 

And there it was. Not only that, I found a YouTube recording, something that has eluded me for years. 

The song itself is the work of Welsh songwriter Anne Lister.  

I never wanted to fly high. 

I was too fond of walking 

So when you said you'd touch the sky 

I thought it was your way of talking 

And then you said you'd build some wings 

You'd found out how it could be done 

But I was doubtful of everything 

I never thought you'd reach the sun 

You were so clever with your hands 

I'd watch you for hours 

With the glue and rubber bands 

The feathers and the lace and flowers 

And the finished wings glowed so bright 

Like some bird of glory  

I began to envy you your flight 

Like some old hero's story 

You tried to get me to go with you 

You tried all ways to dare me 

But I looked at the sky so blue 

I thought the height would scare me 

But I carried your wings for you 

Up the path and to the cliff face 

Kissed you goodbye and watched your eyes 

Already bright with sunlight 

It was so grand at the start 

To watch you soaring higher 

There was a pain deep in my heart 

Your wings seemed tipped with fire 

Like some seagull or a lark 

Soaring forever 

Or some ember or a spark 

Drifting from Earth to Heaven 

Then I believed all that you'd said 

I believed all that you'd told me 

You'd do a thing no man had ever done 

You'd touch the stars to please me 

And then I saw your wide wings fail 

Saw your feathers falter 

And watched you drop like a ball of gold 

Into the wide green water 

Now some are born to fly high 

Some are born to follow 

Some are born to touch the sky 

And some walk in the hollow 

But as I watched your body fall 

I knew that really you had won 

For your grave was not the earth 

But the reflection of the sun