IN CHAPEL

In a quiet, faintly musty, candlelit chapel

the Christian and not so Christian gather

To listen to the breathing of each others’ souls

Voiced over by bits of music from now and then.

Prayers are said which mention anguished claims

of trust which people need, to hold to hope, or

make thanksgivings more than feelings left in silent air.

This a holy time though even “holy” seems a fantasy.

This is different from how we usually live

where things we do and what we think

chain us to a “now” so unrelenting or so dire.

Hours pass without a second thought of who we are.

But here you sit and listen without the need

to do or figure out a problem to be solved.

We simply let ourselves be free to know that One

who gives us life can hear, not merely words but more: our heart’s intent.