They stand, very small,
in the grand old church,
beneath the vaulted ceilings,
surrounded by gold paint and dark wood,
and Biblical backdrops,
under the watchful eye of the pipe organ,
silent tonight.

Seven men, three women, a director
in black and white,
carrying music from the Renaissance,
when some seemed closer to God.

They begin –
ten human voices,
crystal sopranos, trusty altos,
sweet tenors, muscular basses –
they weave a contrapuntal tapestry,
they create a beautiful air,
rising,
taking us with it
to another plane

like an updraft
on an angel’s wing.

10/04/2001

Posted on 10/04/2001
Copyright © 2024 Bruce W Niedt