The Thin Places – Gunwalloe – a poem by Viv Longley

The Thin Places - Gunwalloe

I found it by chance.

Down through the heather
holding hard to the cliffs.
Lace topped crashing seas
thundering into the rocks then
smoothing over the creased sand
to just reach my feet.

High, rain-washed skies
white over the rim of the world,
spin drift salting my hair,
wind made sharp with grit 
burning into my face.

I turned away and saw a chapel
huddling behind the marram grass – 
doors held open against the gale.
Plain Norman arches, 
a wooden cross on a starched white cloth.
The prayers and pleas of centuries soaked into its stones –
a thin place resounding with quiet calmness
whilst the ocean raged.

Rooted in the niche of the bay
I let its solid affirming presence hug me, hold me,
open me up 
to listen quietly,
and just be.

I am steadied, resolve is reformed
to take up my yoke again,
the load lightened.
Ready again to turn
and brace.

Viv Longley has been writing for her own pleasure since she was a child. Later in life she undertook an MA in Creative Writing at The Open University, specialising in poetry. As well as having one collection (Tally Sheet, Currock Press, 2021) she is undertaking a number of collaborative publications, notably, Daughters of Thyme. She is also preparing a second collection of her own and a number of essays – the latter to be called I am in a Hurry. ‘Now nearing my 80’s, you just never know how much time you have left!’