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Tall
arches spanning darkness; High
invisible roof: warm still
air. The
shadowed crucifix outlined
against carved beams. And
light spilling out through
the pillars: Soft
radiance from a firmament
of flickering candles, Gold
and white in the night,
swaying shadows. Burnished
sanctuary lamp
mirroring the arc of fire below; Dark
grouped leaves and boughs,
and frozen flowers: Christ
on the altar in
Gethsemane. The
dull roar of traffic sounds
outside the walls. Silent
worshippers kneel or sit
to keep their watch, With
only the rustle of a page,
the shifting of a chair To
move the soft silence. Waiting
for death to come to
their Lord in the morning To
bring them life. Footsteps
echo quietly down the
dark aisle. The vigil Goes
on. The faithful watch
with Christ. Outside
the cold midnight
brings another Good Friday. Inside,
no time, only the soft
shadow of eternity. Surely,
God is here. Chris Price St
Faith’s, Great Crosby: April, 1973
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