Virgin of Jeanne d'Evreux

It is only two feet tall.
Held up by a dozen men,
it seems to weigh all the world.
Silver gilded statuette
shines bright from the stained window light
or what little can filter in
through the portal packed with eager faces.
The men march forward
with tight-lipped determination:
lockstep.
With every step the platform rises and falls
and with every step their chests rise and fall
and with every step the crowd sucks in its collective breath.
The nave seems to stretch on forever
and the vaulted ceiling reaches on,
on into the very heavens themselves
and a blanket of silence falls over the peasants
and pilgrims and nobles alike.
The statue is set down,
and they all knelt to pray.
"Hail Mary,
full of grace,
the lord is with thee.."