The dusty panels of this wooden floor
have seen more souls than a village curate
step across thresholds from fledgling to fate,
holding grounded feet as the mind did soar:
I sweep them with a broom to show them love,
clearing the fragments of another rainy day;
It is oft said: As below, so above –
as the heavens are swept, clouds shrink away:
Marian stance between the light and dark,
knowledge and ignorance across the plank
when the sea and sky are blackened waves; mark
it well in your mind, for the flesh must sink:
Into madness, into chaos, into
history we go; time’s brush paints so gentle, gentle.