A good preacher dreams / bodies swaying in full tilt / wide open to the eager wind-emotion, pulsating. She sees hands flowing / together in a sheet of sound / layered broken piercing / many and different / all gathering into sensing / Spirit complete the moment / when all feel the knowing / and then death gives way to victory / in a living that moves through walls / of histories that refuse doors. Now with eyes made stubborn by hope / we see a crowd’s new route into each other / flowing from need