Singing in church

for W. H. Auden

     Creator Spirit, Come I bellow as Herr Beer
     picks up our slim offerings
                             “Whitsunday in Kirchstetten”

A bass somewhere invented sticky notes
for zipping around in his hymnal. In our choir,
the back row includes an engineer
who does amazing stuff; a lawyer-priest;
a guy down on his luck; and other mentors
with miracles strewn throughout their week
and deeper past.

                                Funny enough to wake—
but don’t get me started on the tenors
and other sects.

                                       Hushed, bowed
before the One, Who is, you were
circumspect about your private sphere,
Anglican, discreetly including God.
Happy belting, happy keeping still
to hear so many voices blending well.