Assisi Presence

ASSISI PRESENCE

A winding, twisting road, a steady climb
Up from Assisi, where the humble saint
Once lived and worked, until his calling to
Rebuild God’s ruined church, his joyous task
Now points towards a hermitage, a place
Of worship, prayer from holy joyful hearts.
Within a wall, a narrow orifice
Leads out towards a pathway, either side
Arrayed with slopes of forestry, deep woods
Forever pointing up to Heaven’s heights.
A makeshift chapel recess on one side
Bedecked with chairs and altar table where
Prayer, praise and worship could forever be
Made manifest. The pathway yet moves on
Until it seems a dead end has been reached.
A narrow path on one side leads down, though
The thought of walking down it soon gives way
To an uncanny stillness. Looking down,
A cross of seven stones upon the slope
Now could be seen, an unexpected sight
Indeed on holy ground trodden thus far.
Seven round stones of equal stature shine
With depth of meaning, radiating power
Directing sight along the ground until
Another cross is viewed, a simple sight
Of just two sticks of wood that overlap
And sit there in their sheer simplicity.
Yet now the field of vision widens to
A sight of myriad crosses that are laid
Upon the slope, and now a presence makes
Its way into the mind and heart, a sense
Now getting stronger, a benevolent
Puissance encircling all around, a sense
Of sheer enfolding love that fills the space
All powerful and yet invisible
Encircling one’s whole being, leading to
Yet wider view of scattered crosses laid
Upon the ground, they fill each vacant space
And yet there are spaces to spare, to make
The glade more holy than before. A need
To make a cross to personally reflect
One’s own presence in this most holy place,
As with the first cross seen upon the ground
A further seven stones are now picked up
And placed in solemn sequence, minding not
To disturb other crosses in their place
Of rest and witness to the saving grace
Of Jesus, Lamb of God, who gave his life,
Supreme propitiation for our sins.
Those seven stones, imperfect formation
Now rest upon the ground, accompanied
In sweet communion with those laid before.
The presence constant, growing stronger still,
Oneself enwrapped, cocooned in silent bliss
And prayer, acknowledging the Saviour who
Redeemed humanity by His shed blood.
O holy pathway, forest glade so deep
And rich, what beauty is so radiant here!
What love divine pervades this holy space
And hallows it! Beauty and silence joined
In silent prayer. O to forever stay
And sense the love of God for evermore!
Such bliss is interrupted by a noise,
A call to leave this place and return to
My fellow pilgrims, but would rather stay
Within the presence, gazing at the cross
Which lies before me among all the rest
Which lie in their appointed places, still
And witnessing to our dear Saviour’s love.
The distant voice, it beckons once again
To leave this place. With slow, reluctant steps
To make return, yet taking comfort from
The knowledge that my meaningful symbol
Will be there, for how long cannot be known.
Dear simple cross, your lying there imbues
The memory, as did the presence felt
Around my very being, mystery
So great and yet so gentle, evermore
To stay with me until that day when I
Shall know its true identity, whether
And angel or the Saviour dear was close.
On that day in Assisi, blessed place
May I once more enter your bliss-filled gates.