It is as it should be. The cathartic effect rises the dead to new languages and outbursts. A summoned vessel is no longer itself but a light in the distance. You see them along the edges of the sea trying to draw others in safely. They too rise like paper kites into the air as acknowledgements of those who have passed. The spirits move without visibility bumping gently in the night air. The clamor is sent and felt like heat on the edge of a surface. You can tell it exists by its blurring. Everything good is almost always in whisper. The entire room looks up when they sense it is happening. You connect the wheels of the Ark of the Covenant and push it into the opening in the forest. God’s evangelist beats the drum and screams: “You shall be healed. Come to me, and let us hold hands. Believe brethren. Believe in the ole mighty God, for he hath shown you the light and you shall be healed!” There is a circle formed of the believers, who chant and whine under the influence, and many come to join in and soon there are people rushing to see. Lines of people elongate and pitch. Mothers and fathers, bakers and shoe salesmen. Each is ready to be healed. For God is the Word and the Word is God. You are an angel of the Word of God, Hallelujah, praise the Lord!