Surrounded by steep cliffs
and great open sky,
we stand on the point
and sing—not for money,
not for fame, not even
for the crow that hovers
above us on the wind—
we sing for joy, sing because
in that moment when
eight of us sing there is
one voice among us, one mind,
one invitation to move alone together
through the door of the moment
and know that as much as we
are entirely ourselves,
we are one, oh my god,
we are one.
Posts Tagged ‘Heartbeat’
Harmony
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged communion, harmony, Heartbeat, singing on April 23, 2022| 8 Comments »
Remember This
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged generosity, Heartbeat, softness, song, tenderness on April 22, 2022| 6 Comments »
for Merce & Bert & Heartbeat
It is true that anger, that betrayal,
that loss, but it is also true
that one day you might follow
a map to a high desert clearing
where there is a home
that runs on sunshine and rainwater,
and the floors are the color
of autumn leaves, and the beds are warm
and soft, and generous strangers
feed you thick soup and dark greens,
warm bread and good wine,
and as the clouds all around you lift,
you find yourself surrounded by song
and the love of good women and
the ripeness of years and you know yourself
as yet another soft animal—
like a rabbit or a fawn—a being
blessed to exist without claw,
without fang, a being blessed
for now to label this tenderness life.
Unity
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged communion, Heartbeat, singing, song on January 5, 2022| 6 Comments »
Today we lose the words
yours and mine and find
in their absence a song
that can only be sung together.
How did we ever think
we could attempt
this humanness alone?
To the table of love,
we bring soup, bring cherries,
bring the bread of our own
sweet communion.
We bring scissors to cut away
the tresses of the past,
bring dark wine to toast
the courage of showing up exposed.
And when we forget
the words to the song,
well, there is always laughter.
And when we forget to laugh,
well, there is always
the union of tears—
the way many rivers
become one river,
the way many voices
become one song.
Over a Year Later, I Grieve
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged Corona Virus, friendship, Heartbeat, loss, singing on May 13, 2021| 2 Comments »
for Heartbeat, singing together since 1994
Every week we sang, sang blues
and ballads, folk songs,
rounds, pop songs, jazz,
love songs, chants. And we
didn’t just sing, we touched
and hugged, leaned in and loved,
ran our fingers through the waves
of each other’s hair, laughed till we peed,
and jostled and shoved and teased
and offered tissues and kissed cheeks
and brought the shared melodic air
into our bodies and returned it
into the room in currents of ecstatic song.
Oh we sang, how we sang, as if
singing were a life raft that kept us afloat
on the aching broken world.
Now, I sing alone in the kitchen.
Sometimes I’m haunted by the part
I sing—a harmony line unanchored
by the melody. With no tonic,
the tune feels off. There is so much
that’s missing, that’s lost.
Sometimes I make up a new song
and sing about what is here.
Good morning, hummingbird.
Good morning, loneliness. Good
morning big empty room.
The air holds the notes like shimmering drops
that sometimes leak out of my eyes
when I think of how we sang, the music
a life raft, and your voices, my friends, the oars.
On a Night When the World Seems Doomed
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged doom, Heartbeat, lucky to be alive, singing on August 10, 2020| 3 Comments »
for Heartbeat
If I said we sat in a circle
in an open air room made of stones
with tall arched windows
and night sky for a dome
and drank wine and laughed
and teased and wept,
if I said we then sang by candlelight
until the milky way
spilled into our throats
and our voices swirled like vines
that twine and tendril to climb themselves,
if I said how, when we sang our last song,
the wind rustled in the aspen
in quiet applause and then stilled
and a shooting star unspooled
its bright fleeting ribbon, well,
I would barely believe it myself
that the world could feel so full of beauty,
except I was there and felt
the night as it cradled us,
felt that vine take root, still taste
just a bit of that milky way in my thoughts
creamy, nourishing, vast.
In a Circle Six Feet Apart in Town Park
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged connection, Heartbeat, joy, music, singing, tears on May 26, 2020| 4 Comments »
Perhaps we stumbled
on the words, perhaps
we forgot a note,
forgot a bridge,
bumbled our entrances,
fumbled our parts,
but we sang, oh yes,
we sang into the low golden light
of summer, sang
because joy, because
harmony, sang because
lonely, because fear,
sang because, tears
spilling down our cheeks,
we could sing, oh friends,
before we said goodbye,
we could sing.
Why I Like Singing the Same Concert Six Times
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged Heartbeat, music, poem, poetry, singing, transformation on March 3, 2019| Leave a Comment »
for Heartbeat
singing
the same song,
again,
but this time
the melody
finds in me
a closed,
forgotten place
and sings light
into its tightness
until where
there were walls,
now wings
Heartbeat in Concert on March 3, Ouray
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged acapella, Heartbeat on March 2, 2019| Leave a Comment »
One Acapella Evening
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged Heartbeat, poem, poetry, relaxation, singing on August 26, 2018| Leave a Comment »
Not Only On Thursdays at Noon
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged Heartbeat, poem, poetry, song on March 8, 2018| 3 Comments »
for Heartbeat
Though the clock
implies nothing
with its tick
ineluctable,
the body clicks in
to the beat
and begins
to make music
because, though
clearly there’s
so much to do,
what isn’t
an invitation
to sing?
*Thursdays at noon is the present time scheduled for Heartbeat to practice, a seven-woman a cappella choir singing together since 1994. Our next concert, Live as One, features diversity and harmony–songs from all over the world. We’re performing in Telluride at Ah Haa at 7 p.m. on March 15 and in Ridgway at the Sherbino Theater on March 18 at 4 p.m.