The men sing lower and the women higher:
we range from earth to heaven in the choir.
“Does God exist and love us?” you inquire.
I answer – singing – with a church’s choir.
We’ll die, our prospects evidently dire,
but we affirm life’s triumph in a choir.
As current for a light flows through a wire,
a melody’s delight flows through the choir.
A soul is clothed in flesh, and that attire
is woven by the one praised by the choir.
Though discord forces globally conspire,
may harmonies prevail – as in the choir.
We don’t live for possessions we acquire
but for the Love we’re praising in a choir.
Mario A. Pita
Inspired by the choir of Saint John The Evangelist, Cambridge, MA