The walls belong only
to the night -

Our music is the wind.

There is a hush, as it plays low
against the trees...passing through us
as we offer no resistance.

This is our communion.

We pray silence.

There is nothing to be said...it has all been
spoken of by the night, by the wind, by the grace
of our stillness.

Yet there is one last act.

We lay ourselves bare to the alter of one another.

This is our sacrifice to the night.

And with our touch...we light the temple flames.