on no tongue

sometimes, it takes awhile for me to find something to say, but when it comes, it comes and i hope you read it (o reader).

i've had hymns running over and over in my head recently. i've been humming them as i walk into Dunkin' Donuts with blatant disregard for what humming does to distract other patrons. they're big things, hymns. they're not meant to be hummed alone; they're choral things. they want to be sung by groups of people, all of whom sing different lines, some alto, some bass and so on. when it's just a melody, it seems bare. humming a single melody with a sweating cup of iced coffee in your hand is nothing like a thunderous sanctuary filled with song, melody and harmonies layered on top of each other.

it helps us reassert that we are not individuals. we are layered lines, one on top of another, one below, supporting, accenting, completing, fulfilling. otherwise, we're fragments.

when my host father drove me to work in Uganda, he had a wonderful knack to sing the lines to a hymn and not always the melody. trodding down the road that bisects Kalerwe Market, he would sing, "When peace like a river, attendeth my way" in a trembling voice, nothing like a boom. his thick accent llaced into every line, he would change the tempo, occasionally lose the key, change sections from melody to tenor, from bass to melody. eventually, though, i learned to chime in, to begin singing the parts he wasn't singing. until, without much deliberate collaboration, we sang all the way through a traffic jam, and wished each other well for the workday as i exited the car.

they weren't elegant songs, and it wasn't an elegant sanctuary. we flubbed lyrics; the inside of a Nissan pales in comparison to the vaulted ceilings of a church. it was sloppy and beautiful.

i'm humming out sloppy and beautiful moments, with every iced coffee and car ride. they are all around me, and they are full of memories.