Songs and Poems

Three weeks ago now, Ma'am Brigid, the president of Easter College, invited me to come with her choir to a concert they were doing in the lowlands, a benefit for San Gabriel the Archangel Church. We were driven almost three hours down and three hours back, and I rode with most of the alto section in one van.



The concert itself was amazing. I loved the music, and I want to kidnap their entire alto section and bring them back to the States to sing at Christ Church, because they were that good. I don't think I could fit the tenors into my bag as well as the altos, but they were also incredible.



As much as anything else, I enjoyed being part of the fellowship of the choir. Even with language barriers, it felt comfortable and easy being among choir people again.



On the way back up the mountain, darkness fell, and the choir members and I grew silent, simply being present with each other. This poem grew in my mind during the ride home, and was promptly written up before I fell asleep that evening:

Your shoulder leans against mine
as the road climbs up the mountain
I wonder, have our grounds now touched?

When did I last lie in the grass?
This past summer, it was.
Evenings laying amid green,
rolling and crawling with a child
cross grass and clover and dandelions.

Have you that recently played so,
half-way across the world are we alike?
Do you know the same peace it gave me?
Have our grounds now touched?

And if you got through the poetry, here's a cute dog that sat underneath my pew during the concert and listened to the music alongside me: