WEBVTT

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In the Chapel of St. Mary's.

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I can't tell you
what happened there,

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why I entered the
sanctuary, a non-believer.

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Only that, I've been
thinking about worship,

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the altar of the body and
supplication, for some time.

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My thoughts turn, as they often
do in the season of absence,

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to my wife, and
how tired a God can

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get when called, and too
often, for little reason,

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but loneliness.

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Of course, I don't mean God
here, but rather the woman

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I love, who alters
the orbit of my life,

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pulls me with the density
of light toward her,

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the draw thinner when she is
farther away, as she is now.

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I try to find comfort in the
inevitability of science,

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when what I lack is faith.

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The sanctuary,
the stained glass,

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for girls saturating
it with soft chatter,

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small pots of stargazer lilies,
a lace ribbon for each pew,

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this place is full of
faith in the unknown,

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and I don't know how to
believe in what I cannot see.

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Tonight, I will drive
through the foothills

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and into the valley.

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I will try to make
a little practice,

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to trust you are with me, even
though you are somewhere else.

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