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)