Transcendence comes walking, galumphing, swimming. It whispers, screams, stands silent. It's red, purple, grey. It is sandy, silky, sickly, robust. It sinks while floating. Today we sang a song in church that had that feeling. The line was "Lest I forget thy love for me..." The altos ascend in pitch while every other part descends. Rare, that approach. But, oh, so right.