Where have you gone, O Lord?
Where is it you walk today;
along what empty paths;
in what deserted buildings?
Places where children once played,
where news was shared,
a touch between friends exchanged,
a tender embrace,
the cooing of a newborn on their first adventure,
cathartic graveside remembrances.
How do the songs of faith reach heaven now
when the congregations of earth are silently scattered?
muted from unison alleluias and amens,
halted and separated by locked doors and thick walls,
unseen cloud of fear and wisdom between us,
drawing us closer, while tearing us apart.
May you hear them in our hearts
soaring with the angels.
May you incline your ear
and join us in our isolation.
You, the pause before the next movement,
Filling each with anticipation, with life,
and together, may we find new ways
to sing new songs,
reorder notes we thought of as unchanging,
in key or tempo, rhythm and pitch,
flowing round each other
in a new music for heaven
which we may never have found
left to our normal.
And we will find you among us,
and you will return us,
to the body,
to sing new harmonies,
woven with echoes of ancient ones,