Monday, December 27, 2004

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.