Sixth Century Oratory.

3rd April 2021

Day 3 of NaPoWriMo

Sixth Century Oratory

Like entering the tomb,

I step from grassy hill

through an outer, modern, brick wall,

down, into this  small, dark space.

There, feet in two inches of 

muddy water, my eyes try to focus

in the dim light.

A whiff of ancient ancestors,

still held in these old stones.

Jangling, clinking 

 rosaries,  haunt

the ruined altar. 

I expect an apparition of St Piran, 

in brown habit, halo round his head,

to shimmer past.

I stand in sweet silence,

prayer rises from 

my soul,

fills me with 

 new life.