High in the tropics
under a cathedral of trees
busy angels admire
the slenderness of ladders
as they discharge their ministry
a mysterious sculptor
carves the light
into a thousand pieces
and a choir
knocks at a dark door
pleading for entry
as the children create
the rebus of their years
in his early tomb
a quiet prior
sleeps surrounded
by olive leaves
and dreams
of host lanterns
carried by the men of glass
which illume
his delightful path
Bath Abbey (Summer 2011)