Sometimes the quiet held within speaks
And then what meets with divinity
Is but a testimony of old and new
A matchless pursuit
After God’s own hand
Standing alone makes one wonder
How it is you hold a microphone
In the air, only tempting more despair
Yet a regal attribute longs for forgiveness
And plenty a rare find a way
To hear how plainly God waves
In a salutation
Adhering to our positions
And fostering our gratitude
With mere performance
Thank you