Stamford poet laureate Caroline Avnit recites a poem about the Coat of Hopes
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00:00You are to me, soft patch of grass, splintered twig, heart of pine, cone-like vulves move
00:17with sap the life-blood that seeps out onto the forest floor, all your creatures laid
00:24down upon your needle-bed where the soil absorbs your pain. They say all is not lost. As the
00:33air heats up, ice melts, the ocean coughs up debris upon the burnt shore, we are all
00:41suffocating. We grieve this loss like a visceral thing, each breath a gift, sewn together in
00:51a patchwork heart, a cloak of prayer and longing that we cover ourselves with, grief woven
01:00into cloth carried by foot on this pilgrim's path, walking with open hearts, guardians,
01:09wayfarers. Hear our heartbreaking lament, the valley's cry, the sparrow's song. We
01:18wear this cloak to hold space, it is a commentary, a sign, a hymn, that echoes into the space
01:27that fills up this room, dissolves into the air that we breathe. It is our song, it is
01:35the earth's song, and we all sing it. Thank you.