Song

I sing,

reaching into bones and matter,

re-membering aliveness.

Inside and outside resonating

with the embodied recognition

that when I am heard,

I am known.

-Megan Durham

Chiaroscuro

It is a paradoxical gift

exhaling both light and dark—

to sustain in a single frequency

the seen and unseen depth of being alive.

Embodying the well-practiced brilliance of

connection and crack,

doubt and debut,

on-set and set-back,

formant and fear,

we flicker bravely as we learn

how to share our sacred shadows

on a stage.

-Megan Durham

Vocal Fry

They say that cracks are where the light shines through--

I have found this to be true.

It began slight and banal;

like a seemingly inconsequential seed

(sometimes mistaken for a dangerous weed)

in deep, loose soil,

it grew.

A faint creak stirring memories in my bones,

swelling effortlessly into vast frequencies,

echoing that distortion is a prerequisite for clarity,

and that artistry thrives in humanity, not perfection.

The seed whispers:

Why seek to find the ground outside

when you are already earth?

A controversial rescue, indeed.

-Megan Durham

A Place to Fall: Unlearning Perfectionism in the Voice Studio

NATS InterNos, Fall 2025

Voice Loss

The last straw is in the bottom of my drawer wrapped in flimsy paper.

They said it would bring ease,

find the midline,

just the thing I needed.

I hold the plastic miracle

with a note attached:

—keep moving forward—

like a sympathy card

from someone I barely remember.

I imagine bypassing that familiar throb

with tidy effervescence,

but it doesn’t come,

and there are no more words left

to go un-heard.

What would it cost

to be witnessed

without explanation or evidence

as I scream to clear my throat

of salt and should and sympathy?

Why grasp straws

when there are hands to hold?

Grief is not a sound made half-closed.

-Megan Durham

Voice Lesson

It is a numinous practice-

to share what we’ve shared

and to know what we’ve known:

that singing is a dance among frequencies,

where our movements step in kairos time,

resonating beyond bodies

to reveal the spirit’s flicker.

Even when we are humbled by the mundane

or by the shadow of limitation,

we honor the threshold between

what is present and what is possible.

The lesson is this:

not that we teach singing,

but that we witness and water sacred seeds

that teach us how to glimpse a soul

in a single breath.

-Megan Durham