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
 
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…
 
The solace of the empty full or
Theatre moving a mortal mind?
As I am swept and I am blind
And all is clear.
 
Leaving changed
Holding the gift
Of knowing a life, as yet, un-lived.