From the recording Threadbare Songs
Remanence is a song born out of my years as a hospital chaplain, where every hallway seemed to hold the sounds of grief, relief, rage, and love. The title “remanence” comes from the concept of “auditory remanence”, a term for the way sound can linger after it stops. Sometimes it’s an earworm that won’t leave you alone. Other times, it’s the haunting sense that walls, floors, and ceilings are still holding the cries, beeps, and prayers you can’t forget.
This song wrestles with that tension: the ghost of sound that remains long after the moment has passed, and the ache of asking whether God remembers every cry. It doesn’t resolve neatly, because so often our lives don’t. But it leans into the mystery of a God who may still be speaking, even in silence.
This is also song number 37 in my quest write a new song every Monday in 2025 and my entry in the week song contest with the amazing folks at @wildwoodrecording
Lyrics
Verse 1:
The slow and steady wheezing of artificial breathing
Still trying to speak,
The empty pump is beeping, while grieving parents weep
Still trying to speak,
Chorus:
The ghost of sound still lingers in these porous plaster walls
There's an auditory remanence
Echoing these halls
Still trying to speak,
Verse 2:
Families are imploding while the doctor’s diagnosing
Still trying to speak,
Questions with no answers, about accidents and cancer
Still trying to speak,
Verse 3:
A child suffers violence, and it feels like God is silent.
Still trying to speak,
Prayers are prayed with diligence, and the heavens seem indifferent.
Still trying to speak,
Ending:
I can’t stand the silence
Some days I’m buried in my grief
Reverberating every cry
God, will you remember me?
Are you hidden in the silence?
Is there a message you can send?
I need something I can cling to
Until this remanence finally ends