Whispering of fields unsown was commissioned by a consortium of schools representing the Western and Northwestern divisions of CBDNA. Although it stands alone as a piece in and of itself, it also serves as the second movement to my Symphony No. 8, a much larger work that was originally intended to honor Veteran’s Day. The symphony includes a movement for band and choir with texts by Wilfred Owen, a British infantry soldier in World War I who wrote some incredibly powerful and striking poetry from the trenches before being killed near the end of the war. His work demonstrates a vastness of expression and a clear progression in his changing thoughts about the war, moving from strong, angry statements such as 1914 to bitter, brutal passages such as Anthem for a Doomed Youth. However, throughout his writing there remains a humanness and a love for his brothers that is clearly presented in poems like Futility, which serves as the inspiration for Whispering of fields unsown. The title of Owen’s poem suggests the progression of his feelings about war, but there is something in this poem that remains gentle and kind and beautiful. In spite of the horrors of his experiences, his love for his brothers is apparent in his words and I chose to focus on that.

Futility

Move him into the sun--

Gently its touch awoke him once,

At home, whispering of fields unsown.

Always it awoke him, even in France,

Until this morning and this snow.

If anything might rouse him now

The kind old sun will know.

Think how it wakes the seeds--

Woke, once, the clays of a cold star.

Are limbs so dear-achieved, are sides

Full-nerved,--still warm,--too hard to stir?

Was it for this the clay grew tall?

--O what made fatuous sunbeams toil

To break earth's sleep at all?