Grace in Croatia

I understood nothing,
In St. Mark’s Cathedral,
Korčula, Croatia.
Some two hundred had come,
Despite buckets of rain,
Five in the afternoon.
I’d call their hymns praise songs,
Repeated, known by heart,
Yet beautifully faithful.
Their songs of mystery—
And love—and sacrifice—
And, I think, gratitude,
Almost moved me to tears,
Everything understood,
Though no words known to me.
How could this be, given
My inability
To say anything back
About that which filled them,
Other than, there I knew
Intimations of the Spirit
Poured out upon all flesh?