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.