I like a growling congregation,
hope creaking through difficult lives;
I like choirs of bright voices,
light filling dark places;

but best I like indifferent singing,
the soloist who gets the high notes flat,
the warbler who makes herself heard over all,
the organist who embarks on an extra verse;

for here is the greater challenge to love,
amid fastidiousness, vanity, human failing;
here too, appears the greater blessing,
on finding love sweeter than any singing.