Every Sunday, I make this journey,
swathed in seasonally embroidered color,
from the aisle’s head to the altar
having passed, at the sound of organ chord,
through the parted sea of rising waves of chanting fellow-pilgrims
previously on their knees in dutiful supplication.
Do we lift our voices in prayer and song
assuming to summon the coming of the Lord
or do we pray and sing,
for the Lord already, aye, alway is here?
Photograph: main aisle, Epiphany Episcopal Church, Laurens, South Carolina