The Church Visit


What of a church, captures my breath
Returns it to me full of life and of death?
Wood underfoot and stone walls recall
The millions of tales of time gone by
Β 
To chatter and swirl in the space between
The land and the sky. Above and below –
Why should they bring all into focus though?
What has and what will and what now?
Moves made, tears cried,
Sat at once so sad and satisfied…
Β 
The solace of the empty full or
Theatre moving a mortal mind?
As I am swept and I am blind
And all is clear.
Β 
Leaving changed
Holding the gift
Of knowing a life, as yet, un-lived.