Alexander Averin

Monday, 15 June 2009


Roofless now, she is dressed just in a cloud
that is gentle; wispy, billowing like soft smoke.
She does not stand, she nestles,
cwched in the cwm beside the river’s course,
a simple cottage in a spiritual place.
Her sky is wider now; its blueness deeper
and generous in its magnitude
for such a lone and humble dwelling.
Rows of golden buttercups line her ancient path,
sheep-bitten but still emboldened with their jewel-bright glow.
Solid and warm, the greystone of the walls remain
and I am drawn to touch, tune in and just to listen
for a voice.
But all is quiet.
There is no frenzy here as her silence is the truthful kind,
like being in a chapel without its sermons
or a church without its hymns,
I stand alone and sense
just a plain and wholly perfect attitude of Peace.

Cait O’Connor


willow said...

I especially loved this line, "...her silence is the truthful kind,
like being in a chapel without its sermons
or a church without its hymns".

Beautiful, Cait.

ChrisH said...

Lovely, Cait - and it perfectly captures the ruins you see in so many places here.

Aunt Amelia's Attic said...

Simply lovely word picture...

Aunt Amelia


Beautiful words. Penned by whom? You Cait? Tfx

Cait O'Connor said...

Yes TF. Glad you like it.


Thank you for sharing. TFx

ChrisH said...

Cait, just saw your comment about moving - I love Wales, just want to live somewhere quieter - it's getting more built up on this coastal strip (is nowhere sacred?). Will pm you.

Pondside said...

Lovely, Cait - breathes peace.

FireLight said...

I always love stopping here. I like this poem, Cait. And your quote by Ellen Gilchrist in yesterday's post says it all! She is a a fine writer from Arkansas...and wise.

Pipany said...

Oh I loved this one Cait. Very beautiful imagery x

Pamela Terry and Edward said...

"sheep-bitten by still emboldened"...ah, haven't we all felt like that occasionally?