And Yet, We Sing

Like an animal trapped in a cage,

howling its rage,
we sing.
Like a bird trapped in a church,
desperate to escape her stained-glass prison,
destroying herself by crashing
into that divine light again and again,
until, broken and exhausted,
she falls to the marble floor,
we dance.
Whether from loneliness
or the pain of witnessing
overwhelming beauty,
out of fear or out of awe,
we sing.
And though we know,  
we forget,
that the music we hear is born of
someone else’s pain.
And so, we listen.
And so, we dance.
We join hands and spin;
we raise our voices
against the horror and the pain
and the blinding, searing light.
Because we know,
at least for this one day,
we have survived
to sing and dance again.
And so
we dance.
And so
we sing.