Blinking back tears



The Last Time

Smoke spirals skywards,
Beautiful bells tintinnabulate,
Vividly victorious vestments
Coruscate on courtly clergymen,
Ceremonious chanting colors
Lavish liturgy.

I look lachrymosely
On the splendid summation;
Sundays are now silent.


Today was the last Chant Mass of the school year, and my last with the Schola. I'm glad to be graduating, but I regret having to leave the Schola behind; they are my sisters and brothers, and the music we sang together changed my life.