The lights are low.Red from the floor.
Casting sinister shadow puppets of the band upon the wall.
The crowd pulses and moves with the band. Arms raised. They don't realize where they are. What is going on. This is revival. Maybe at the hands of men that don't realize, or don't take it seriously. But this is a place of worship at this very moment. They lift hands high. They sing His praise. Do they understand? I doubt it. But He accepts each and every one of them for who they are, and where they are at.
It is nearly 3am.
This is practice. Slick roads and misting. Not wearing enough clothes. I get closer and closer to the edge of the city. I'm cold but I could walk all night. But I'm almost home. Road Agents always make it home.
While those who were there sleep comfortable in beds. I walk.
I will always walk these roads.
"That is the first sailor, and this is his crew."
He points at me while he sings it out.
I tip my cup of rum and recognize another Agent.
If he knows it or not. This is revival. This is gospel. I tip my cup of rum again, this time to my lips, communion, warming myself for the walk ahead.
"We've got to rise and shine and give God the glory, glory, Children of the Lord!"
File under Virtue.
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