Sunday Near Winchester Cathedral Poem by Nereva Notswa

Winchester Cathedral


Perfectly proportioned building
wrapping a vast space,
still as its surrounding grass,
gardens, parks and homely houses.

Even the fast flowing river is still,
the peeling, playing bells sing of the stillness.

Flintstone walls stand strong,
surrounding shrubs and red berried bushes.

People pass by purposefully,
but not in a hurry –
they are in time to sing the Sunday service.

Every movement is on time,
every stone sits just right,
every sound sings in tune.

Soon children will be skating on the lawn;
Mr and Mrs Blackbird find worms elsewhere.

Ravens delight in winging around the tower
and each other,
soaring up, diving down,
coming to rest on the parapet.

Every atom here bounces,
dances blessings praise and prayer,
deep deep into the ground,
informing every seed since ages and ages
for eons to come,
so beauty can ever sprout in the substance of love,
as has ever been, and will ever be.