Peculiar shoals (viewed from blimps)
Weaving migratory patterns.
We converge like seasonal salmon.
There are Heralds to our spiritual homecoming:
Halo-hatted angel-riders at the silver gates.
Beyond, a gently-sloping altar of hero worship:
Bold canvas of Ithacan green.
Baptisms fall in April drizzle.
Basilica of Zeal.
Catacomb of once-lived Mystery.
Full-resonating our terraced Cathedral
Are the prayers of devotion:
The fading-echoes of St Gregory
Squeezed through an evolutionary sausage-press,
Then pierced like cling-film to taste the clear air
Of our roofless Reformation.
In the heat of meditation
(In the stinging downpour)
We sing the blaze of passion:
Raucous blur of larynx and lung.
Music of the living voice - 'viva voce' -
Filters through the skins of generations.
We sing to our Gods -
Who respond in mysterious ways.