Lady Chapel, Saint Andrew's Episcopal Church, St Andrews
waiting in the stillness...
Drifting aimlessly, collecting memories,
moments, threads woven together
the wind whistles through the trees.
Then as the sun appears on the distant horizon,
the feint melody of birdsong becomes a chorus of trumpets.
A cradle that will never rock,
Barren like a flower that will never bloom
restlessly tossed this way and that
Seed pods burst open
their contents carried on the breeze
bringing new life in abundance.
Humbled, shrouded in love
Pure, innocent, white, delicate beautiful flowers
overflowing, being baptised as the float away
Wind billows and blows
The sail fills, responding, following
the Saints that have gone ahead,