A Rising

I remember prayer as a rising 
in my blood, the resonance 
that leaves the mouth of a bell 
rung in a nearby tower.
When I close my eyes I can feel 
the coolness of water I touched 
to my brow, the space below 
my heart, my shoulders— left, right. 
Every nave holds a congregation:
heart, shoulders (left, right);
brow and space below 
the coolness of water I touch
when I close my eyes. I can feel
rung in a nearby tower,
leaves in the mouth of a bell.
My blood, the resonance.
I remember prayer as a rising.