Soprano notes soared in the quiet, luring the pilgrim forward.

Across the oceans, beyond the deserts, up the mountains,

She had traveled. The months turned into years, the wandering

Became a quest. Surely she would find her spiritual El Dorado,

A place of accepted reverence.

The nave was dark, the parishioners wary, her presence

Creating an anxious rustling, a shying away.

But she pushed forward, urged on by the haunting notes,

Like an organ thrumming, sending its chords

Whistling into her soul.

Her heart opened to the beauty around her.

She stepped slowly, like a bride, up the angled aisle,

Nodding left and right, acknowledging the members

Of the church though they still cowered, nervous,

Shielding themselves from her strangeness.

Sunbeams shone like a river of light,

And the birds sang, and the deer grazed,

The tortoise meandered along the singing brook.

The pilgrim sat and rested her weary soul,

Suffused with peace by the oldest god

Tranquil, pristine, unbiased Mother Earth.