libretto

SING SANCTUS

Leviathan Movement IV

Jodie O’Regan “Ocean Coming Home”
Sarah Teasdale “Old Tunes”

We are not ashes. We are not dust
We are the river. We are the flood
The waves that bear the dead to shore
We are the fog of blood stained war

We are not ashes. We are not dust
We are the river. We are the flood
The ghostly tendrils through the depths
We are the final strangled breath

And still we dance. And still we sing
On mighty arcs the planets ring
The red mist water. The green sick foam
We are the ocean coming home

Our ancient prayers scratched out in mud
Our great love-songs scored in our blood
The last line falls The bones turn clay
all our words are washed away

And still we dance. And still we sing
On mighty arcs the planets ring
The red mist water. The green sick foam
We are the ocean coming home

Sing Sanctus

Waves of perfume, heliotrope, rose,
Float in the garden when no wind blows,
Come to us, go from us, whence no one knows;

So the old tunes float in my mind,
And go from me leaving no trace behind,
Like fragrance borne on the hush of the wind.

But in the instant the airs remain
I know the laughter and the pain
Of times that will not come again.

I try to catch at many a tune
Like petals of light fallen from the moon,
Broken and bright on a dark lagoon,

But they float away—for who can hold
Youth, or perfume or the moon’s gold?

Sing Sanctus