Rise Up Babylon

Chapter One: Maeley made a promise to her father right before he died — that she would tell the truth of their painful story. He’d sacrificed almost everything he loved for money and power. But Maeley followed a different path — led by the song of the stars, to the magic of the forest. And that made all the difference.

Chapter One: Trees and Stars

My father died when I was twenty years old. Two weeks before he passed, he gave me one final assignment — to tell our story.

Dad’s frail body was fighting for breath as his shaking hands reached for mine.

He was crying, and so was I.

With his sunken blue eyes he pulled me closer, “Through music, Maeley. Tell our story through music.”

There in the shadow of his bedside, I promised him I would. 

Dad and I had been estranged, especially since I’d entered college. It was nusic that barely held us together.  Music was our foundation. 

Dad was my first piano teacher. I was five. 

He strictly enforced my practice. By the time I was seven, I was playing two hours a day. 

The night before my eighth birthday, Dad set my alarm for 5:00 am. He said I was entering the “age of accountability” and that I’d be practicing an additional hour each morning before school. 

Our piano was next to a large bay window. While I played in the dark, starlight pulsed to the beat of my metronome through the glass.

That’s when I started hearing them, the voices of the stars.

I knew I’d never learn their song just sitting alone on that hard piano bench.

So I followed them out to my Magic Forest.

Each morning I’d first go to the piano, play my Hanon and scales, but then be quietly pulled out the front door by a magnetic force. I’d somehow find myself lying on the cold ground in my coat and pajamas, mesmerized by the constellations that shimmered through the tree branches. Oh, how my little heart would burst with elation!

The forest would hold me captive until red and orange devoured the fading silver stars. Then I’d hurry back to the piano.

My father caught on to me. I’ll never forget the first morning he entered the grove with his booming voice, “Maeley!” I was terrified. Like a good daughter, I begged for his forgiveness.

Still, I couldn’t stop myself from going.

I’d practice faithfully for a week or so, but inevitably end up lying on a bed of pine needles, peering up at a sky dome glimmering with light. 

So began the early splintering of my relationship with my father, when I was just eight years old.

Twelve years later, I sat by his sickbed, writing down what he’d kept secret into a notebook, so that I might follow his last instruction -- to share our story through music.

Dad’s truth-telling was painful, but it also gave me understanding. He really had lost his soul to the power-game of oil futures and earnings per share.

Today’s withering forests are part of his continued collateral damage.

For many years, I’ve struggled to keep the promise I made to my dying father when I was twenty. Bitterness and shame blocked the flow of words and melodies.

Until the sky finally showed me the way.

Staring into the sparkling depths of space, I’ve always wondered, “Why can’t I see the Milky Way when I first look up?”

First, my eyes have to adjust. My mind empties out — to stillness. Then, slowly like magic, it just appears. A long, wispy trail of light across the whole night sky.

It takes time to see things clearly. 

So I’ve waited for the clarity that only comes with time. And now, I can finally fulfill that promise I made to my father.

Call to Me                                    

I’ve waited years to share with you my inside story

Couldn’t find the words or sing the melody

I’d rather risk and take a fall

It was the stars whose bright lights called to me

And they still call to me

They still call to me

The night still calls to me

Stars still call to me

They say keep fighting for what you dream

And I believe

Since I was young I always knew

I was strange, quite different, that much is true

I preferred books to shopping malls

It was the woods whose voice called to me

And they still call to me

They still call to me

The trees still call to me

Forests call to me

They say we’re dying

And I believe them, I believe

In the silence I find myself

On the ocean shore with no one else

The truth shines through it all

And in my heart I hear them call

They still call to me

Trees and stars call to me

It’s in them I believe

I made a promise I’d share with you my inside story