May This Day Be Your Story

Story Behind the Piece

In May This Day Be Your Story, I hear a kind of intimate blessing: that someone’s life might be well told and well heard, received with attention “big as rhubarb leaves.” When I think about the feeling of this poem, I cannot help but think of the relationships in my own life where listening is more than a technique we apply; it happens naturally because the bond is already strong. It is the quiet joy of being captivated by another person.

Musically, I tried to let the piece embody that reciprocal exchange, almost like a gentle sing-song passing back and forth. The phrases feel like an offering, then a response, then another offering, as if the choir is practicing the art of presence the poem describes.

Musical Qualities

There is also a technical element that shapes the energy underneath that tenderness. In places, although the meter is in three, singers sing four words across those three beats. That small tug creates a forward leaning in, and a sense of urgency, not pressured, but hungry in the poem’s sense: eager for what someone has to say.

On a first listen, I invite you to notice that interplay between ease and intent. My hope is that, by the end, listeners find themselves thinking of one person, or maybe a few, with whom they share this kind of attention and trust, and that the music feels like a simple reminder of what a gift it is to be heard.