Program Notes:

From the soil we rise,
Embraced by earth,
never forsaken.
In the dance of the wind,
the wheat stirs,
Silent under sparrows' flight,
Mute beneath the donkey's nibble,
Still as the sickle sings in summer.
Paths converge like stalks in a field,
Each destiny woven into the land,
Summer's blade,
a final breath.
Return to dust…