sweet subtle scent

of beeswax candles

burning.

the soft jingle of

Church bells ringing.

and You, Oh Lord,

raised up by angels,

Reign!

Oh Glorious King!

enthroned with gold.

You are my King!

Oh Holy Lord!

in this quiet

chapel,

where old women,

bow their veiled heads.

You are here!

Always near.

so quiet

Oh so still.

yet grown men

fall to their knees,

in adoration

weeping,

in the mere

Presence of You.