CATHEDRAL
Beneath its dizzy heights
public footsteps
ring a tapestry of sound.
Time surrenders here,
hushed voices
slice through space.
In ancient plans
the sky has been considered,
clouds float across
ascending lengths of glass
not stained but clear
while high in the dome’s recesses
portholes angle to paradise.
Thick with prayers,
stone walls are candle-bright
and from the altar
a swinging censer’s breath coercive.
In the rising foment
of the moment’s focussed ritual
saints hide their heads
in alcove darkness.
.
John Short lives near Liverpool. In 2018 he was a Pushcart Nominee and has appeared internationally in magazines like Barcelona Ink, French Literary Review, Poetry Salzburg, The Blue Nib, Envoi, Zingara Poetry, Eunoia Review and South Bank Poetry. His pamphlet Unknown Territory will appear in July from Black Light Engine Room.
