CATHEDRAL (poetry)

POETRY

By Dan Watt

The Author of the e-books Ruby Queen and Sylvia from the Children of the Myth Machine series Kobo.com.

Couldn’t find or draw a picture to describe this so the heading picture is the best I can do, taken by the Grand River in Cambridge, Ontario.  As you read, it might help to listen to Hans Zimmer and Lisa Gerrard’s “Elysium” and “Now We Are Fee” from the Gladiator soundtrack.

 

CATHEDRAL

See the chestnut grove

We’ll pass through it on the pebbled path

Notice to your right, the cypress in a blanket of poppies

Yes, only carnations and buttercups, grow along the left

Keep in mind though; the path leads from the cathedral

 

I hear that the colours of the marble arch before you are inscriptions

The grey veins, of the keystone, represents the soul, considered the second conscience

The left side, with the veins of red, the body

The right side, with the veins of green, the mind

All those little azure flakes throughout, the internal blue flame

 

It is a strange feeling, when you walk into the wilted garden, isn’t it

The underside of the stream that runs from the pond to the Cathedral, is coated in silver

We’ll take that shallow bottomed boat with the oars

See those Carrera lions to either side of the stream’s mouth

One is looking into the distance while the other stares straight ahead

 

As we go towards the entrance you’ll notice the wind-worn gargoyles on the upper ledges

Still they appear menacing

The lichen grows vibrantly where the sun shines greatest over the walls

But the rest is draped in dead vines

 

Here, just inside, please light that torch

Very few have ever come here

These scratches along the obsidian interior

Are believed to have come from the few who have entered

And left with stolen pieces

 

Can you feel it

I don’t know why it is, but that feeling has always been here

There are more cracks in the walls now

Statues have fallen out of their niches and broken

I’m afraid it is too late to make repairs

What is damaged cannot be replaced

 

A choir sang here once

But the acoustics can no longer reverberate…a song

If I hold the flame higher you can see the upright statues

The cloaked figure with the bowed head

Farther on is a Herculean character of sandstone

That effigy, over there, on its own, stares eyeless

As if he could still see

 

Take the torch and hold it over here more

Can you see the row of women wearing shawls

All walking towards the exit

They are called the Goodwomen

Look at the floor

The elliptical imprints in the dust belong to that naked statue before the jaded glass

See how he presses his palms against the pane

It is believed she resides there

 

This is where the stream ends

I see you can sense it to

We will have to leave soon

Upon that altar of books is an ark

In the ark is said to be the child

That arch behind the ark leads to a path no one has ever entered

Rumours say…that is where the spirit…took flight

 

 

 

 

Dan Watt ã 2000

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