Shone warm in my memories' Autumn sun.
Up here my soul was formed
Here on this antique mound swelled with the dead
His radiance first broke in.
From Saxon coffin lid
And polished pews once carved by roughened hand
The gospel words first danced
In sunlight sparkled through by diamond window pane.
Here Jesus came to me.
And is it true? These words
In cold quiet air on church-topped, wind-topped hill
First terrified me so.
Were these the times of the Apocalypse long-dread?
Were we near, unawares?
And I talked to that space
That drew the eye, twixt table and cross, 'neath bi-fold panes
The absent presence of God
His lingering, merciful echo, calling me then,
Rang down through centuries dead.
I wanted more than here,
These whitewashed stones, these wooden ranks that once were full,
When Lord of earth and sky
Was venerated and his Sabbath kept secure,
His just dues paid with prayers.
I was called away to more.
The thick wood set in its frame once more, the latch dropped,
The wind stirred, the still spoke.
The names that rose from crumbled stone spoke stillness.
Silence slipped into my soul.
Far from the rabbit's sprint,
The dark crows' wheeling, the spike of sheltering thornbush,
The sheen of winter green,
In a city of stony hearts and steepled minds
I sinned; yet found my faith.
Aldham, ne'er quite forgot,
Fell far from view, its promise done, its purpose filled.
Life wheeled ever on.
Not so for her: my mother ever true stayed with these stones
And now they stay with her.
The north side's wind blows cold.
Fresh flowers here, and photocopied verse attached,
Break death's hushed silence.
So vivid green, the fresh-cropped grass that holds my tears,
That damps my mourning knee.
The sun shines on for now.
In hedgerows near and far, life and death turn onwards.
So must it be. The pain
Of separation now, the joy of union found:
These all to memories turn.
And turn again. This green mound
On which Christ sat within St Mary's heart is pregnant now;
She mourns no more her dead.
The plague-black homes which crowded once her skirts lie still and green.
This crop of souls awaits
The final trump
The happy throng
The endless day.
And Mum's soul too
With secret smile
Will rise today.
