 To the hall that leads to the doorway of you, oh holy ones. You of the first light. You who know the potential of possibility pulsing in the dark. Deliver us unto our gifts. You who have sunlight in your fingertips. Oh, touch our drums. Make us hear the rising. Make us move a steady stump. A choir of voices so majestic. Heaven hides us in a tapestry of light. Oh, we are stars. Blankets of wonder. Sky bright eyes seeing the invisible.