The twilight gleam down the mountainside looked almost translucent,
As if the mountain spirits were spinning in a glittering cavalcade
Like splintering moonlit shards of endless effervescence,
While the silence was as malleable as the pause between Amen
And the congregation slowly rising to their feet,
And the peace seemed to form into feather winged silverine angels  
And just beyond the mountain, a cloud wept through the evening breezes
As the nightly hours gathered and talked together of the coming dawn.


The hours moved like dawn spirit puppets, through the peephole of night
They danced into an eternity of hypnotic schisms, where nothing died
Until the final bells were rang, and shades drifted on with the winds,
Entangled within the mysticism of life’s countless whispered moments,
And as shadows grew long across the clock’s face, eternity told the time,
The shadows were dream pointers inexorably turning moments to hours
And hours into the days of yesterday through until the days of tomorrow,
Then the sun started to shine once again and all was as it was before.


The collection plate of life was passed around the congregation
And was filled with the benevolence of satisfied souls again,
The gentle buzz of conversation grew as people stepped out into the day
From the Holiness of ecclesiastical shade to the wakened sunlight,
And for a while the world felt such a better place, but only for a while
The day was filled with strolling remembrances of places and people
Whether nearby or far away, thoughts always brought them nearer
For the Holy spirit has a way of making life fit together once more…