Rites of Autumn
The Virgin of Guadeloupe
Weighs heavily upon backs that
Gladly demonstrate their faith to the lonely
Locked behind doors at fifty first & Eighth
Clang of bell & the weary
Momentarily rest
Ministered by strong women
Who carry the men in their hearts
Clang again the bell
The somber march of sour Spanish trumpets
Dragging Tubas through the streets
Crying tears of suffering
For the fallen King
Believing the Son' will shine again.
Weighs heavily upon backs that
Gladly demonstrate their faith to the lonely
Locked behind doors at fifty first & Eighth
Clang of bell & the weary
Momentarily rest
Ministered by strong women
Who carry the men in their hearts
Clang again the bell
The somber march of sour Spanish trumpets
Dragging Tubas through the streets
Crying tears of suffering
For the fallen King
Believing the Son' will shine again.
♠ ♠ ♠
Author notes: Ecuadorian Catholic Church of Neighborhood Immigrants
Defy the traffic horns of New York City with brass band
Every Sunday in Autumn