the day was as grey as the abbey
the light that filtered through the glass
had no disturbing shine about it
no one inside was grasping to collect it

the organ had its notes tucked in a corner
its sound blending the greyness into calm
i was a stranger there but felt collated
a dovecote for the peace the cool notes bred

old tiles replaced by victorian replicas
lined the norman stonework near the choir
their age and halfworn coats-of-arms
touched a nerve i was not prepared for

a longing gaped in me (my eyes sensed tears)
a rush of inner silence urged me to give
my body to a void (my life's denial)
i was stunned beyond self into alertness

a hand not my own (but seemed at home)
sent signals out and had no need of answers
it could have been i came to be a tree
that with its tucked up roots went slowly out