My attempt at religious dramatic prose:

All the men of Israel, including elders, heads of tribes, priests and Levites were gathered together with King Solomon on this joyous occasion in the month of Tishri. (October)

My knees shook as I watched the priests, clad in long, loose-sleeved white robes, taking the Ark of the Covenant to its resting place in the Holy of Holies.

The priests approached the first terrace of the Temple and climbed the stairs to face the two huge, thirty-two foot copper pillars of the entrance. I could hear the bleating of the sheep and the lowing of the cattle, as the animals, too numerous to be counted, were sacrificed before the Ark.

As the priests brought the Ark to the sanctuary, into the Holy of Holies, I felt for my silver trumpet, preparing myself for the next few moments.

My throat began to feel parched. My heart beat faster, as the priests came out of the Holy Place. The fragrance of cedar still lingered on their robes. The singers, arrayed in fine linen, along with other Levites having cymbals, harps and lyres took their places at the East end of the altar.

I, along with 119 other trumpeters followed. I lifted my horn to my lips, took one deep breath and blew.

I heard a sound in unison, praising and thanking God. The voices were singing, "For he is good, for his mercy and lovingkindness endures forever."

It was then, as the tears streamed down my face, that the house of the Lord was filled with a cloud, so that the priests could not even stand up to minister, for the glory of the Lord filled the house of God.