MY DAY: It is Wick

It’s February 13th and the evening sun is beginning to shift its way back around to the point where it floods my study with brightness, forcing me to close the curtains during my teaching hours.

The wintery scenes, even snow-covered, seem less dead.  In fact, it is wick.

What is ‘wick,’ you ask?

From the musical, THE SECRET GARDEN, book and lyrics by Marsha Norman and music by Lucy Simon (sister of pop singer, Carly Simon).

MARY:  The garden is dead, Dickon. It is the most forgotten place I’ve ever seen with loose grey branches and dead roots and leaves all tangled up on the ground.

DICKON:  Now, did ya take a real good look anything?  Mary, the strongest roses will fare thrive on being neglected if the soil is rich enough.

MARY: You mean it might be alive? How can you tell?

DICKON:  I can tell if a thing is wick.

When a thing is wick, it has a life about it.
Now, maybe not a life like you and me.
But somewhere there’s a single streak of green inside it.
Come, and let me show you what I mean.

When a thing is wick, it has a light around it.
Maybe not a light that you can see.
But hiding down below a spark’s asleep inside it,
Waiting for the right time to be seen.

You clear away the dead parts,
So the tender buds can form,
Loosen up the earth and
Let the roots get warm,
Let the roots get warm.

Come a mild day, come a warm rain,
Come a snowdrop, a-comin’ up!
Come a lily, come a lilac!
Come to call,
Callin’ all the rest to come and see!

When a thing is wick,
And someone cares about it,
And comes to work each day, like you and me,
Will it grow?

DICKON:  It will!

Then have no doubt about it,
We’ll have the grandest garden ever seen!!
Oh, Dickon, I want it all to be wick! Would you come and look at it with me?

I’ll come every day, rain or shine if you want me.
All that garden needs is for us to come wake it up!

But, Dickon, what if we save the garden, then Uncle Archie takes it back, or Colin wants it?

Ay, what a miracle that would be, gettin’ a poor crippled boy out to see his mother’s garden!

You give a living thing
A little chance to grow,
That’s how you will know
If she is wick, she’ll grow.
So grow to greet the morning,
Leave the ground below.
When a thing is wick
It has a will to grow and grow.

Come a mild day, come a warm rain,
Come a snowdrop, a-comin’ up!
Come a lily, come a lilac!
Come to call, calling all the rest to come!

Calling all the rest to come!
Calling all the world to come!

Oh, somewhere there’s single streak of green below,

And all through the darkest nighttime,
It’s waiting for the right time.
When a thing is wick, it will grow!





About Wright Flyer Guy

Darin is a single adoptive father, a teacher, playwright, and musical theatre director from Kettering, Ohio.
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