Does grace have a public key?

Pic by Gemma Wiseman ~ St Mark's church, Dromana on the Mornington Peninsula This pic has been taken on a weekday. Notice the loneliness, the lifelessness. Somewhere, inside, we hope is grace.
~
Writer's Island prompt ~ Fallen from Grace
~

Think of grace ~
And we often think of
A quiet
Humble
Inner beauty ~
A little like
The soft meandering
Of lines
Simply being
Unpretentious
Unconscious
Of the artistic
Serenity
They have become
~
Think of grace ~
And often thoughts
Absently wander to
A church ~
But have you noticed
Often public grace is offered
But one day a week ~
For 6 days
The church door
Is tightly
Closed
~
The windows
May be tinted
In stained
Artificial colour
(Best appreciated by night lights)
But they too
Are closed
And often
Never open
Can't open
~
Is this
Just a symptom
Of what society
Has become ~
We fear the little
Precious grace
We have left
Has fallen to
Locks and bolts
And only
A few
(Once a week)
Have the key?
~

A poetic posting ~ Textured Tiers ~ on my Auragem Songlines reflects on a tree, a fallen tree. Has it too fallen from grace? I imagine being such a tree, and how it may feel. My accompanying pic is taken in Cranbourne Botanical Gardens on the Mornington Peninsula.