White stucco walls and a simple cross
reach to the sky blue, threads of cloud.
A little church on a hill, a solid wooden door,
closed and locked.
Pray outside today, if you must.
A shingled track leads the way,
past towering pines, plains views.
The people of the valley fall to their knees
on buttoned cloth, reach for salvation
among the angled high beams; seek
to cleanse their minds of clutter and fear.
A man of the cloth raises his hands,
to test the power of prayer