In the nave
smoke swings from the chain
a priest chants his name
and children sing
Hallelujah! Hosanna to the highest!
under windows, beautifically stained.
Each head bows
hesitant, penitent, full of doubt.
Gloria, in excelsis deo!
fills the chapel with voices driven
by what's revealed
as pure emotion
from the pews, the wood still glowing
from polish applied the previous evening.
From above
(though that is a convenient dictum)
a spirit comes to join all the kneeling,
restless children, silent men
and silent women, their pious, unseeing
eyes pointed away from the ceiling.
In the hush before repentance is accepted,
in the youngest faces
a dove makes its apearance
wings full spread, offering
a Christmas Eve benediction.
Later, mourning
will fill them with passion
when they return to lives
lived in other locations,
on other occasions.
But for now,
peace, that most joyous illusion,
deserves to keep them
omniscient
for one winter's segment,
for one simple season before it must leave them.
Monday, December 27, 2004
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