we sit before this avenue of eternity,
for the whispers of salvation,
the feast that angels bring
for us today.
the outside noise grows dim,
the world shut out,
and in the solitude,
the dews of the heavens distil
upon our parched and thirsty souls.
upon this altar we bring
wounds and aches in want of balm,
and humbly we supplicate,
and are soothed…
and having worshipped, the final amen
and we rise, filled and healed.
-sep 2007, written one sunday after services, or maybe during…