All dressed, seated for the annual event

White embroidered and laced scarves 

Adorning women’s hair

The monks, busy, turned to the altar

The nave’s vault graces the rays 

Guiding the light

From the Rose Window on their backs

While the young men continue

In reverence with the sun.

As the sun dips, it rises onto the altar

And the organ emulates creation,

I wonder - 

What makes the young men in white 

Turn away from what they’ll never know 

And live in quiet submission?

The red orange and shades of blue

Grace the rays from the clerestory

Floating orbs rise and carry

The hopes and prayers of those seated

As they glow and reflect, they glide

The lighted colors to the altar

And bring alive the saints,

The Norbatine priests chanting in chorus

Now reverberating the abbey 

As the West door opens 

And the sun rushes through

With all standing,

The orbs glowing with the trinity of colored windows

Rest on His body

All in ode to the hanging cross