TINTERN ABBEY

W.A.C.

(A remembrance of March 9, 2001, at Monmouthshire, on the Wye)
 
I stood before the ancient ruins that night,
And saw the moon in fullness shine above
The empty arch that stood, gentle and slight,
Guarding, even now, this temple of love
That cloistered Cistercians for centuries
Before another usurped the Abbey
And left it destitute, despite their pleas--
A monument to man's depravity.
And yet, despite its fallen, hapless state,
It stands, a silent sentinel of stone,
Its nave open to the sky, the transept
Bathed, that night, in a sweet golden tone,
A testament to God's transcendent place
Where he dispenses love, and peace, and grace.
 

© Copyright William A. Cook.  All rights reserved.