The undulation begins anew every second
yet has never once begun. It is the never ending aria -
Each on our own, oh how we thrum, yet the instruments we never once get to choose.
For this orchestra
by a much-much larger hand.
Me. I. Solo We.
Fragments and all
we sing. Out. Alone...
casting our net wide
our story strong.
Our legacy is not in the having
but the being, which is the singing of our very own song...
We weave the notes of time. Thrum. Thrum.
Some sing for one, some sing for some.
Some sing for none.
Few sing for all.
Dear God, gracious God of mine,
thank you for singing
for all of our souls
especially the ones
I am too weak to include.
© Raena Exe 2023
“Happy are those who dare courageously to defend what they love.”