I live in an elm cathedral, where i live
there is room for birds. Lady bees bustle
rummage sale in the shrubberies all May long.
Here, too, the song.
I know what i must do, every day lift up
the song, the old song, let it be heard
here in these streets, let this cathedral
ring with the testaments of love.
What if i go singing a Gathering Song?
Will Ni’gmajtut all remember with me
as the words become clearer with singing?
What if i go singing an Honour Song?
Will the spirit of this place dance approval
softly, like Elders dance?
What if i go singing a new song? Will it be
rooted in earth and springing, every spring
green as these halls in the May light?
Where i live is an Elm Cathedral.