They evince soft signs
of trancelike exultation --
songs sung less like anthems
than like distant lullabies –
and yet so selflessly imbued
with what they feel to be divine
there is no other thing
for them to do but offer this
soft-pillowed praise -- to chant
its billowing incantatory line.
They gently raise their
faint translucent proclamation.
Who are they, with their slightly
absent eyes? What spent
dissociation do we sense
in them? What size of thing
resides in their religious arts?What is in their hearts?