Cathedral Dreams By Jacob Scott
My thoughts reach up , spire like . They touch the skies of my mind , send me swimming , dip me into the font anew . My dreams race down the aisle , pew-hop , climb into the rafters . They toll the bell , set a ding-dong song ringing in my organ loft body . Cruciform nights ; I sign the cross in sleep ; I dream of heaven . Ascending to the height of what can be imagined , I lay my days end at the altar of rest . The blood and the body , the still and the steady , the view from the roof of my cathedral dreams . I dangle in the nave ; I sing in the confessional . And oh , the music .