A sickly sweet scent radiates from the purple catalpa flowers on the prehistoric trees growing defiantly along the malodorous canal. I walk over the bridge to the green barn where we gather to offer thankful chants and mediations. I am surrounded by the light offered from the burnt orange glow-ball of the sun, setting slowly westward. Many unions and bonds shall happen for the heartfelt souls yearning for greater connection there. Antique red brick columns and buttressed wooden ceiling beams have seen much arduous labor in their years but nothing like this had been thought of in anyone’s wildest dreams. A nostalgic bank clock tower with neon red hands is seen in the distance through a streaked wire meshed window. Fat gray guard cats with all knowing eyes watch out while listening to ancient melodies and stories. Hymnals & bibles piled on top of each other. Woolen prayer shawls with memories of life’s moments and their accompanying stains are strewn about lazily. The air is thick and streaked with songs of praise and jubilation. The ark sits proudly, small but defiant with a proud scroll bundled inside its flimsy velvet draped exterior. Noisy garbage trucks break our thoughts while intensity mounts as the proper time nears. The space on the floor is divided but only by gender as we unite with eternity; then all eat a humble meal before casting our darkest soul moments into the murky, dank olive colored canal. The day-glow fish shimmer in their schools nearby as the rotten egg smells compete with the purple catalpa flowers’ sickly sweet scent. Amen Selah!