Plainchant and polyphony binding the centuries
cease. The lights are extinguished in the choir,
and darkness, ever present in the corners,
steals once more into its ancient space,
tucking itself around the sanctuary like a blanket.
Against the darkness candles nudge,
caressing the pillars with a flickering kiss,
and the spirits of dispossessed departed canons
nestle in the shadows; silent and invisible
they keep their counsel as do the fingered stones,
worn guardians of all the City's secrets.
[From Awaiting an Epiphany, The Priory Church of St Bartholomew the Great, 1997]
E-mail me at: Virginia.Rounding@btinternet.com