Friday, September 20, 2013

The brother was walking


The brother was walking
   to the side chapel when
   the air split in half knocking
   him to the stone floor.

On his back he looked up
   to see faces peering down
   but not seeing him instead
   seeing what the brother

Could see: a ruin of stones.
   Looking up from where he lay
   In the grass he sees the ruins
   around him, only foundation stones

Visible, the walls and windows
   gone, the shrines vanished,
   the towers crumbled, the altar
   gone, the statues of the saints

Disappeared. He watched the sky
   change colors, dark and light
   tumbling one after another in frenetic
   speed, suns and moons rising and

Waning, seasons changing, time
   exploding 0ver his forehead,
   He expected to feel terror but
   Only sensed the rain falling, lightly.

Photograph of St. Augustine’s Abbey, Canterbury, courtesy Britain Express.


2 comments:

Martha J. M. Orlando said...

Oh, the imagery! Took my breath away . . .
Just wonderful, Glynn!

nance said...

what a trip!