by Jake Murray02 Mar 2016
I brought you here, your guide,
To this place that had played such a role
In my life; this hallowed ground that had
Healed me when tears had been my consort;
This sacred place that had ministered to me
When sorrow poured from my side.
You held my hand. We walked
Through the gardens, past the silver water,
The smooth grass, the blossom hanging
Soft in the trees. This time I was the healer,
I was the one to show you the earth
Where my own red pain had died.
We sat in the high meadow, you drank
Deep on the hidden music that whispered
Among the leaves. We brought our libations,
Mouthed our offerings as we approached the gate
Where the water ran, blood of the Anointed, pale
Mist where He and She reside.
Pigeon and raven at the portal, one with the silence
That threaded the trees; a simple well, wooden
Shield revealing the seal where two worlds meet,
A single blade. We sat as lovers, reverent pilgrims
Come to kneel where wounds had healed
For generations; a tender flowing, a peace.
Maidens and garlands, men among lanes,
Tending fields and streams, I remembered them all;
Time before now, a land untouched. Above us the Tower
In benign repose, below us the Abbey, great stones
Echoing in other times. I held your hand, watched your face
As you were transported, your hallowed ground, as mine.