On Entering An Old Church

There’s something here

I don’t want to rush past,

something in the air

that isn’t revelation,

something more like

recognition, or being met,

and I’m learning to trust

such meetings, learning

to inhabit what it means 

to be accompanied by

unseen lives accumulated

behind and beneath layers

of prayer and attention.

Outside, everything goes on

asking, goes on demanding. 

Inside, there’s only one question.

"What would happen if I stayed

in this moment a moment longer,

slowing, settling, dwelling, and

loosening my grip?"