At last the church is open to the heavens,
Not since its consecration has a congregation
Been closers to a spirit maker.
Fall leaves fall through rafters
And gather at the altar stones.
Its ascension is part accession.
The night belongs to real estate.
The owner cannot attorn; and so,
It’s clear to us in one lifetime
The insufficiency of faith,
The shifting sands of substance,
The cloud over the title,
Structure amassed in rubble,
On this eighth day of creation
After the first seven have failed.