All we are, we have found in song: you have drawn this song from us. Songs of lives unfolding fly overhead, cry overhead: longing, rising from the song within. Moving like the rise and fall of wings, hands that shape our calling voice on the edge of answers you’ve heard our cry, you’ve known our cry: music’s fierce compassion flows from you. The night is restless with the sounds we hear, is broken, shaken by the cries of pain: for this is music’s inner voice, saying, yes, we hear you, all you who cry aloud, and we will fly, answering you: so our lives sing, sing, wild we will fly, wild in spirit we will fly. Like a feather falling from the wing, fragile as a human voice, afraid, uncertain, alive to love, we sing as love, afraid, uncertain, yet our flight begins as song.
