At The Shrine Of St Cuthbert & The Venerable Bede Poem by Sheena Blackhall

Imagine the Lucernarium, the blessing of the light
When the shadows of flickering candles
Played over griffins, unicorns, sea serpents, wyverns and pillars
The bowed heads of the monks
An ancient, evening rite

Today, tourists shuffle along like guests
Attending a buffet. What to stay and sample?
The Galilee Chapel holds the bones of the Venerable Bede
HIC SUNT IN FOSSA BEDAE VENERABILIS OSSA
Children tug at their parents, anxious to leave
Not enough zing to hold the attention of youth

St Cutbert's shrine on the other hand, is colourful.
Once pilgrims came in thousands to kneel beside it
Before King Henry stripped the monasteries,
The base was of green marble, richly gilded
Four seats were there where the lame and sick could kneel
Shrine, covered by a cloth with tinkling bells

Children, unbridled, dance around the steps
Like little pagan budding Morris Dancers
Their parents trawl the shop for small mementoes
The only relics now that are for sale

Imagine, if you will,
It is Maundy Thursday
Imagine incense burning,
Carrying prayers to the rafters and beyond
Imagine the Prior's ritual;
the washing of the feet of 12 poor men brought into the cloister
where each had his feet washed, dried and kissed by the prior,
where each of the monks did the same for one of a group of
The poor then given a meal, served by the prior and monks
three loaves, seven red herrings, wafer-cakes and thirty pence

Imagine the lighting of the Paschal Candle:
a candelabra of 7 candlesticks,
the central candlestick near reached the roof

And after: The ceremony of the Judas Cup
Of double gilt silver, the prior distributing wine

The cloisters are not silent nowadays:

‘Part of Harry Potter was filmed here! '
‘Could you direct me to the public toilets? '
‘They say the coffee shop is nice and cheap'
‘At least it's free. But we can buy a postcard.'

So Time completes the work begun by Henry.