Milo Warrior
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for winter: a collection of art song
for solo voice, accompanied
"This, too, shall pass"
“for winter” is a work i began in the winter of 2025, using artistic expression as a way to process and heal. at the core of this piece lies the idea of love; what it means to lose love, and what it means to be blessed by the greatest symbol of love we have.
april of 2022 was the first time i encountered the song “dear winter”, written by the indie pop band ajr. in contrast to their usual style, dear winter is a much more intimate song where the lead singer, jack met, sings about his future daughter, and what he imagines her to be like. since hearing this song, i have held onto the idea of naming my future daughter winter, thereby giving the overall work its name, and myself much of the artistic inspiration.
the title “for winter” takes on several different meanings, acting as a triple entendre. first, winter refers to the winter of 2025, a time when i was forced to deal with a multitude of personal difficulties in my life. then, winter serves as prayer for the idea of winter, referring more to what winter represents, the ideals of family and marriage and love. “for winter” here is more of an indirect reference, for the idea of winter. finally, we end the collection with a literal use of the title, a piece written for winter, the child. lullaby for winter ends the piece in a delicate space, with a caricature of a mother, holding onto her love dearly.
i invite you with this piece to reflect on your own relationship to love. whether that be blossoming romance or resented detachment, for winter aims to encompass the whole of the emotion.
i. now close the windows
Now close the windows, and hush all the fields;
If the trees must, let them silently toss;
No birds are singing now, and if there is,
Be it my loss
It will be long ere the marshes resume,
It will be long ere the earliest bird:
So close the windows and hear not the wind,
But see all wind-stirred.
ii. a prayer
As I lie in bed,
Flat on my back;
There passes across my ceiling
An endless panorama of things—
Quick steps of gay-voiced children,
Adolescence in its wondering silences,
Maid and man on moonlit summer’s eve,
Women in the holy glow of Motherhood,
Old men gazing silently thru the twilight
Into the beyond.
O God, give me words to make my dream-children live.
iii. lullaby for winter (little things)
Little things I’ll give to you—
Till your fingers learn to press
Gently
On a loveliness;
Little things and new—
Till your fingers learn to hold
Love that’s fragile,
Love that’s old.