Transported
Listless after a day at my desk,
I relish walking into the evening’s thunderstorm.
A stained glass Jesus with arms outstretched
greets us at Good Shepherd Episcopal Church.
The minister walks before the rood screen
to read us a poem by Thomas Merton.
The lights go down and the master of ceremonies
welcomes us into this Soulful Space.
Four black-clad musicians appear,
a generation younger than their small audience.
They take up their guitars, sit behind the drums,
backlit in a cloud of smoke.
Ancient Warfare‘s percussionist mesmerizes
as her beat keeps the strumming steady,
her vocalizing like intergalactic whistling,
while the lead singer adjusts monitors with elfin shoes.
The guitars never stop vibrating
as they segue from one song to the next.
In this Gothic church our pews are shaking.
“These are golden days,” the alto sings
and the percussionist inserts a haunting soprano
that points us toward our inner space.