Sun splashes through stained glass,
makes patterns on upturned faces
that  history has not yet scarred.

How proud
this gathering of smiles singing,
this innocence of silver notes ascending.

We glimpse hints of tomorrow in their eyes,
a flash and then a quick laugh. We are not ready
for whatever will be.

They sing unaware of life’s stages;
God bless their unquestioning faith.
Middle C has never sounded sweeter.

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