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one 02:13
grace 01:45
two 01:43
the amble 03:55


This music, these words, this album is an immediate response to now. March 20, 2020. Beauty, art, community, and love still thrive.

Track #5 (available for free download):

The Amble[1]
By Sabrina Sadique

I am always a stranger
in the same woods.
This time
I am entering the path
where I usually emerge
with a feeling of death
both remote
and at the hinges
of that implicit door
I cannot see

Here the woods are native
where I am alien.

If you listen closely to the rustle
in the deep
(what sounds like
March branches
at the first softness of twilight)
You will hear a presence next to you

Elsewhere the world is ending

This world right here of two geese
in a pond called Fairyland
I feel invisible lives
whose given names I do not know
at the edge of that other world
where we hold microscopes
to name our regal enemy
geolocate its shape-shift
quantify omnipresence
give it human garb

(That common foe
that made us unite

when nothing else could)

Sometimes I see future ghosts of people who are with me now
in flesh

A double habitation
with whom I am both
at one and trinity

Dare I say
I have found madness
and grace
within a thing
that animates
inside our body
into unstoppable rebirth,

immune to our affections
as we seek immunity
from its tentacular hold?

Like the Old Testament God
who denies
Job a just response.

But how can a mortal be just before God?[2]

So unbreathable its hold
I reached for my viral Father
whom I had abandoned
for His unpredictability
who now turned to my Mother
for unbeseeched forgiveness
who was now able to breathe

like Tiamat
who chose to look past
Marduk as he blew up her belly
split her heart
and made sky and earth
from carcass.


It wasn’t simply looking past in the eye
It was choice
toward a direction

Her choice. Her Deep.
Primordial amniotics.
Some call it grace.

So many dead,
The count rises like Jesus,
a sacrificial heat
for the rest of us.

We called it
Not too long ago
the Battle of Karbala
and later
a plague of terror

And even later

We couldn’t tell human
from parasite,
holy war from extinction.


An apocalypse
is an uncovering,

Revelation -
where everything
is found
as its inverse.

Things float
Nothing prior
to match it by


an umbilical
so deep that

(In Job,
To curse is to bless.)

I fell to my knees
at the pews of a temple
that urges no confession
and emerged from the wood

At the mouth where I had entered
as human.


A stranger’s afterlife.

[1] In the worldly sense, the Emerson-Thoreau Amble in Concord, MA. In the otherworldly sense, Tehom.

[2] Job 9:2


released March 20, 2020

Sophia Subbayya Vastek - piano
Music written by Sam Torres

Recorded at the Troy Savings Bank Music Hall in Troy, NY, with deepest gratitude

Recorded, mixed, and mastered by Sam Torres

The Amble: poem and reading by Sabrina Sadique

Cover photo: Sam Torres
Cover design: Sophia Vastek

Special thanks to Sabrina Sadique and the staff of the Troy Savings Bank Music Hall


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Sophia and Sam Troy, New York

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