RAPTURE

You could feel every layer of music
as a separate entity
and the rhythm changed
as clearly as a water seam
every time you changed your ears to listen
and voices soared against
some unkowable balance
between faith and futility
that makes you want to bless
the unfortunate souls
and sing Lead Belly tunes
in a low and happy cadence

It waxed a natural sorrow
not cultivated by romantic fantasies
of a tragic tomorrow
by raising up all troubles to the sky
in a euphony of praise
for the palpable spirit
that wants only love and rest
and rapture