A train whistle wails in far distance

Rises to crescendo

as pipe organ, the cavernous hall

This solo act

drowns the choir

as grey souls stare silent

from their gilded pews

Swallow sermons whole

Dole out the word piecemeal

to none who would listen

Faith like the whistle

is only assumed

It’s source unseen,

yet we know their existence

from tracks left behind