Mid-morning in the chancel of my village church
Mid-morning in the chancel of my village church
and the early March sun decides to suddenly
burst in through the southern windows
projecting a vernal delight
into the wintered pores
of the well-trod
chancel stone:
cobalt
vermillion
emerald
gold
Judas' kiss dissolves before me
as chalk in rain
the knotted whips
upon his Master’s back
are only beautiful now
the disciples’ slumber
the rash and severing sword
all disloyalty
each and every betrayal
here transfigured
by the graceful fire
of a forgiving vernal sun:
cobalt
vermillion
emerald
gold
Mid-morning in the chancel of my village church
and the early March sun decides to suddenly
burst in through the southern windows
projecting a vernal delight
into the wintered pores
of the well-trod
chancel stone:
cobalt
vermillion
emerald
gold
Judas' kiss dissolves before me
as chalk in rain
the knotted whips
upon his Master’s back
are only beautiful now
the disciples’ slumber
the rash and severing sword
all disloyalty
each and every betrayal
here transfigured
by the graceful fire
of a forgiving vernal sun:
cobalt
vermillion
emerald
gold