Napowrimo24 challenges us to write a poem that features walls, bricks, stones, arches, or the like.
Like the real life sanctuary it refers to, ‘The White Spring, Glastonbury’ It is still in the process of manifestation.
To be continued. This is only the foundation.
Raising a Temple of Stories
Such stories are formed of stone,
Stories of love and of life.
Tales of death and blood and bone.
Substance of peace and strife.
Bestowed by those alive.
Mixed in with the mortar,
Even before the stones rise.
Flowing in the water.
For order and disorder,
Pulses within the land,
The elemental quarters.
Sing in every grain of sand.
In the heart of every man,
And every drop of sweat,
A sonnet in the builder’s hand.
Begotten to beget.
The mason meets the architect.
Cracks are in the quarry,
Building hasn’t started yet,
Already there’s a story.
Unintended oratory,
To lay down with each rock,
Create this place of glory.
Built over beauty – A box.
Many local folk were shocked.
Brutal behaviour.
Chain the waters of chalk.
To be sickness’ saviour.
Corporation reservoir,
For good folk of Glaston,
To rise up from cholera.
Clean water; a bastion.
A building full of contention,
Flowing with water as well,
A dubious intention.
Rising in the white spring swell.
Ancient tales won’t be dispelled.
By architecture’s intellect,
Beauty won’t remain felled;
Divine magic won’t be wrecked.
100 years of neglect,
Won’t lay it all to waste.
Ev’n respect in retrospect,
Will honour sacred place.
Lisa Goodwin – April 2014
Wizard News 