In Verses & Song

  DCINY Production/Dan Wright Photography/June 9, 2024 One Glorious Chorus  for my fellow SAHC singers & friends  We step out of a yellow cab into a swirl  of sounds, of lights, of colors, step into  a hotel elevator going up, up 39 floors,  our window view silver skyscrapers  in a sea of blue, a cacophony of traffic and noise    stretching on, interrupted by a breath of green  blooming across its center, a horse-drawn carriage,  summer jazz and food truck smells mingling in city air.  We step into a rehearsal room, relax and feel the comfort of a space of song, the way our voices weave as we sing,  the way this city welcomes and overwhelms us, the way  our many voices gel into one glorious sound, one glorious chorus in this city of wonder, this city of sounds and peoples and languages  and love, this city where dreams are made and lights seldom dim,  t his city where paces quicken, beatboxes bump, rainbows burst.  We stand within that storied hall together, feel

Fireflies of Hope  for Camp Firefly 2024   Together, we spend sun-drenched days  on the water, glide across a lake  of sparkling blue, burst balloons  in laughter, cool water against our skin:   hands held, eyes met, tears shed.    Together, we traverse trails  of green, splash into the wide blue,  beat drums of life, dance circles of spirit,  sing silly songs and hymns of worship,  breathe blessings of nature, of time, of each other.    Together, we speak of how isolation and illness,  grief and sorrow touches us — recount   our stories, share our children’s hearts  of hope and resilience, how we hold on,  how we rise and break through to joy.    Together, we see smiles abound  on our children’s faces, their bodies exuberant  i n delight: radiant, alive. We awake  to wonder in our vibrant, blooming world,  to beauty in our families, to bounty in new friends.   Together, we feel the gift of each moment, our hearts,  our hands, the winds moving through us  a

  Poppy II, Jamie Lynn Moore Listen to the Audio Here Gathering Ribbons for Shepherd, Mason & Alexander I dreamt of red, beating wings, vibrant cherry-red petals, the orange-red fire of sunset, a vivid red-gold jersey on a green field. These visions accompanied by: birdsong, rain, wind, laughter, cheering. After waking, Remembering: t hree boys, three warriors, three friends, three angels. The threads of dream and memory gathering us, stitching us together, Remembering: The wings of a cardinal, the petals of poppy flowers, the cotton of a football hoodie. Remembering: The way each boy smiled, listened, spoke, laughed. The way their mothers held them. The way their mothers held us. A circle of reds, ribbons streaming bright and long, tears in equal pools of grief and joy. Remembering: how we raced toy cars, painted animal sculptures, played cards and prayed with them, dined and sang songs with them, held hands with them. Remembering: how we passed them on walks through hospital hall