Source Texts

Movement 1: When dreaming the dark grows bright, text by Giselle Wyers 

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When dreaming the dark grows bright 

Any hesitation met with more light

Creeping in closely, increments unknown,

Shocking in its plainness

and its promise.

While over the ocean 

A half-moon ensures constant light

The sea rolls ever upwards

Like the hidden meaning of dreams

What is told plainly in the dream

Cannot be seen in light of day

Just edges, outlines remain

We all know

The underwave pulls strongest at night. 

The moon’s majestic hold

Can sway an entire ocean

It’s light only lives on fragments,  

Echoes of the sun’s brighter grandeur 

Come awake with me, 

Out of restless gravity!

When dreaming the dark grows bright.

In fragile dawning light

Leave the dream, to live the dream.

Movement 2: A Morn for Life , poem by Nathaniel Parker Willis 

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Throw up the window! 

'Tis a morn for life

The air

like a breathing from a rarer world;

And the south wind like a gentle friend,

The birds are singing

As if to breathe were music; 

I had awoke from an unpleasant dream,

And light was welcome to me. 

Oh! could we wake from sorrow; were it all

A troubled dream like this, to cast aside

Like an untimely garment with the morn;

Throw up the window! 

'Tis a morn for life

Could the long fever of the heart be cool'd

By a sweet breath from nature; 

or the gloom pass away

while looking on the tint of flowers—

How lightly were the spirit reconciled

To make this beautiful, bright world its home!

Movement 3: Imagine You Know How to Fly, poem by Caryn Mirriam-Goldberg

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Imagine you know how to fly

In fact, you've done it all your life–

the view from above always multi-textured, dense, 

promising more than close-ups.

Like this field, mid-summer, watercolor green.

Up close, the deer's contoured belly, 

muscles straining against the underside of fur.

See how it breathes?

Now fly forward to the edge of late summer,

just a few fireflies diagonally making their way up

through the white air to blue air, thinning to a wisp.

Drop your arms and stop fighting.

Leave your house behind you.

Go to the wind pouring over and under

the ledge of the sky.

Jump in.

Movement 4: You are the music, text by Amy Lowell

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You are the music, not your song.
The song is but a door which, opening wide,
Lets forth the pent-up melody inside,
Your spirit’s harmony, clear and strong
Sing but of you. 

Throughout your whole life long
Your songs, your thoughts, your doings, 

Each divide this perfect beauty; 

waves within a tide,
Or single notes amid a glorious throng.

The song of earth has many different chords;
Ocean has many moods and many tones
yet alwaysocean.

So is this one music with a thousand cadences.  

Movement 5: The Lips of the Sky, text by Nicomedes Suarez

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Through the naked oak limbs

I see the moon half eaten away by the blue

The pines softly sway 

And the tiny birds’ songs seem to attract

The night that begins to enter my chest

Between mountains angels of dust are playing on the last breath of sun

The lips of the sky are closing in our eyes

Movement 6: The Green Ray of Sunset, text by Jules Verne

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All eyes turned toward the west

The sun seemed to sink with greater rapidity

As it approached the sea

It threw a long trail of dazzling light 

over the trembling surface of the water

Like a spangled mass of glittering gems.

Not the faintest sign of cloud, haze, or mist

Was visible along the whole of the horizon.

Motionless, and with intense excitement,

We watched the fiery globe as it sank

Nearer and nearer the horizon,

(And) for an instant, hung suspended over the abyss.

“The Green Ray! The Green Ray!” we cried, 

our eyes for one second reveled in the incomparable tint of liquid jade.

There was no longer any doubt as to its brilliance

Nothing could now interfere with this glorious sunset!

Nothing could prevent its last ray from being seen!