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.