A Slice of Paradise
Nestled in verdant woods,
on a low lying promontory,
The sequestered convent stood,
kissing the shadow of church steeples.
A safe haven to virgin grace,
A quiet abode!
Tranquil was the site
with a calm drowning the hubbub around.
Plants bowed under the weight of blooms
ready for offering at the altar in the shrine.
Dressed in dazzling white from top to toe,
and hoods in black, covering their heads,
Moved silent with easeful pace, the nuns,
like penguins, gliding over the ice.
Gently tip toed
to the chapel through the rear entrance,
The serenity of the scene,
overpowering the disquiet within,
Nothing of grandeur to arrest the eyes,
save a simple crucifix hung on the wall,
and a statue of Mary and Joseph at the side.
As I stood with folded hands,
Nothing did I see, but a gentle whisper heard,
filling me with a coolness, so delicate and beatific.
A riot of colours and gorgeous spires emerged,
and legions of angels gently falling in line.
I saw winged seraphs with bugles in hands,
singing hymns on end in quiescent, celestial notes.
How long did I bury my (self) in that blissful state?
Or was it a moment when time refused to budge?
Before me, I saw a slice of paradise unveiled,
a sight so radiant, never before beheld.
In the stillness, the song of birds from surrounding woods,
sifted down through the murmur of wafting winds.
Pleasant was the sensation that replenished the soul.
Deep it was and deeper than ever.
Sucked to the fill, the peace that exuded.
Lay afloat in the joy that welled.
It was a feel far too deep for words.
More appeasing than all the riches,
this famished world could offer.
Like a child cuddled in sweet embrace,
I felt sheltered from all storms and gales.
Trapping that celestial feel,
and wrapped in grace,
I stepped out from that serene calm,
into a busy boisterous world.
to remain a sea shell,
hiding an ocean within,
with a prayer that the waters that fill,
shall be the resurging waters of love.
Comments about this poem (A Slice of Paradise by Valsa George )
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