The Organist

Every Sunday at the end of service

the pipes resound in fugues, concertos, tocattas

her hands and feet run in crescendos

notes deep and rich ringing off the stone walls

running over our heads and resounding in our souls

I feel a deep kinship

as I gaze in the choir loft

at the organist who for decades has played tres magnifque

her slight stature

her feminity

her gray hair

at odds with the powerful runs that echo and reverberate through this sacred space

I feel so humbled

to be in the presence of her powerful talent

given to us and to God

 

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