Sunday at Collegeville

Sunday morning, starting slowly;
Abbey bells blocked by insomniac dreams.
After three days of rising –
psalms at dawn in the abbey church-
this morning is for the tomb, 
wrapped in winding sheets,
the womb of sleep.

But the breath of God paints
the surface of the water with music;
light playing loud rhythms,
riffing heart beats echoed
by the voices of the young,
sing dissonance into harmony
at the altar of resurrection.

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