Mountains Are Where Heaven Meets Earth.

It's A Good Thing Babies Don't Give You A Lot Of Time To Think. You Fall In Love With Them And When You Realize How Much They Love You Back, Life Is Very Simple.

It's A Wonder That Any Mother Ever Called A Daughter Dinah Again. But Some Did. Maybe You Guessed That There Was More To Me Than The Voiceless Cipher In The Text. Maybe You Heard It In The Music Of My Name: The First Vowel High And Clear, As When A Mother Calls To Her Child At Dusk; The Second Sound Soft, For Whispering Secrets On Pillows. Dee-nah.

I Moved My Arms Through The Water, Feeling Them Float On The Surface, Watching The Waves And Wake That Followed My Gesture. Here Was Magic, I Thought. Here Was Something Holy.

I Could Not Get My Fill Of Looking. There Should Be A Song For Women To Sing At This Moment Or A Prayer To Recite. But Perhaps There Is None Because There Are No Words Strong Enough To Name That Moment.

They Sang The Words In Unison, Yet Somehow Created A Web Of Sounds With Their Voices. It Was Like Hearing A Piece Of Fabric Woven With All The Colors Of A Rainbow. I Did Not Know That Such Beauty Could Be Formed By The Human Mouth. I Had Never Heard Harmony Before.